


Flotsam and Jetsam

by G_the_G



Series: Tumblr Dry on Low [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Artist Steve Rogers, Awesome Sam Wilson, Crack, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Tony Stark Has A Heart, sorry to all the tag editors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 28,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/G_the_G/pseuds/G_the_G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mix of non-soulmate Darcyland prompts and inspired works from my <a href="http://awww-brain-no.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>.</p><p>Updated 3/14- Chapters 34-45 are NEW</p><p>34- Darcy/Bucky<br/>35- Darcy/Bucky<br/>36- Darcy & Tony<br/>37- Darcy/Scott Lang<br/>38- Darcy/Remy<br/>39- Darcy/Remy<br/>40- Darcy/Remy<br/>41- Darcy/Remy<br/>42- Darcy/Remy<br/>43- Darcy/Remy<br/>44- Darcy/Remy<br/>45- Darcy/Remy<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Please stay." Darcy/Eliot

Darcy woke up to a ridiculously loud guitar riff and drums. Eliot swore and shifted underneath her on the couch to fish the ringing monstrosity out of his pocket.

“Ugh, why do you have such a terrible ringtone?” Darcy mumbled as she buried her face into his chest.

“Whatever. “Hot for Teacher” is a classic.”

She didn’t bother to rouse herself for a witty rebuttal as he’d finally gotten the phone out and answered it. Well, grumbled into it.

“What?”

She couldn’t tell who was on the other end but she heard Eliot’s growl a mere thirty seconds into the conversation and figured it was probably someone from his team.

“Dammit, Hardison!”

Bingo. 

“I told you this was gonna happen.”

Darcy lifted her head to peer at Eliot; his eyes gone squinty as he paused to listen.

“No, I’m not helping you out with this one. If you’re so worried about Nate finding out, get Parker to help you.”

Eliot hung up and tossed his phone onto the coffee table with a grunt.

“If you need to go take care of something, I can head out.”

“Nah, you’re good. Hardison can learn from this one on his own.”

“You sure? I don’t want get in the way of any team bonding experiences.”

Darcy put her hand on Eliot’s chest and began to push herself to a sitting position, but he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back down so to bury his face in her hair.

“Please stay,” he murmured squeezing her tighter.

It wasn’t often that he was this sweet, so who was she to argue?

“On one condition,” she teased as she settled back against him.

“What’s that?”

“You’re making me a cheesecake later.”


	2. "Wait right there! Don't move!" Darcy/Steve

Steve took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He and Darcy had just finished baking cookies in her apartment and he figured their laughter and flirting plus the sugar would probably make that moment his best opportunity. He took another breath. Now or never.

“So, Darce, I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah, what’s that, sweet cheeks?”

She punctuated her question with a pinch to one of his cheeks. And not one on his face.

He coughed to hide his squeak but she still caught it and grinned.

“Right.” He cleared his throat to focus and get them back on topic. “Okay. I know the idea of signing the Fantastic Four up as supporters for Trump’s campaign is hilarious; genius in fact.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there. A big one; and not just the fabulous one in those sweats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. This wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d hoped.

“ _But_  I’m with Bruce on this one in saying it’d take your feud a step too far.”

Darcy threw her hands into the air dramatically.

“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.”

He’d been ready to employ persuasion and distraction tactics, but that reaction was not what he’d expected and he wasn’t prepared.

“Huh?”

She dropped her hands to gape at him for a few seconds.

“Steven Grant Rogers. Do you mean to tell me you haven’t been introduced to Firefly yet?”

He shifted and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. Whenever Darcy got this intense things tended to get either very interesting or weird all at once. And that current predicament seemed to hinge on his response.

“Uh, I think someone mentioned it.”

She gasped. 

Damn. Not the right answer.

“And you didn’t watch it?”

He continued to rub his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“I feel like I’m not going to be able to answer that in any way you’ll find acceptable.”

“We must rectify this at once!”

“Uh, I’m sure Jarvis can play it in the movie room for us sometime,” he suggested hesitantly as he lowered his hand and shrugged.

“No, no! We’re doing this properly.”

Darcy grabbed the plate of cookies in one hand and his arm in the other and maneuvered him over to the couch. He was intrigued enough to let her, but in her hurry she pushed him over the arm and he landed haphazardly on the edge of a cushion as she set the cookies on the table.

“Wait right there! Don’t move!”

“Not even a muscle?” He smirked and indicated his position half on, half off the couch.

“Oh, don’t you sass me at a time like this!” she scolded as she hurried out of the room.

“And when would you have me sass you?” he called, but she had already dashed into her bedroom.

He decided he was allowed to arrange himself more comfortably when he heard her rummaging about and mumbling. It seemed like the evening was going to be more weird than the interesting their earlier flirting had suggested.

“Vera, where the hell are you?” she exclaimed from deep in her room.

“Darcy?”

“Not you!”

He heard another couple of drawers open and then a triumphant shout. A minute later Darcy appeared in her doorway with her arms full of blankets and wearing a hideous knit cap.

“It’s marathon time, Mr. Rogers.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what he just got himself into. But as it would involve lots of one-on-one time with Darcy, it was bound to be good. Plus their couch cuddling usually led to more interesting things, so it was a win-win. 

And those were definitely his favorite kind of situation.


	3. Beef Encounters (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Darcy. What. Is. THAT???

“What. Is. THAT?”

Clint shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head.

“From what I can tell it’s an enormous plushy version of a chimichanga.”

His must have aimed for placating with his tone but she only heard his sense of guilt and a few pieces clicked into place.

“Let me guess. Deadpool?”

“Well, Stark is more for the bunny route.”

“Yes, but why is Deadpool sending you enormous stuffed…foods?”

“Umm. Well. He might have said something about buying my affections back since I’ve been spending so much time with you.”

Darcy covered her eyes with her hands and practiced her breathing like Bruce had taught her.

“UGH! I swear. I thought the fangirls would be the big problem once we got together; I never counted on psychotic mercenaries with a crush!”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

Admittedly, she knew that as far as gifts from Wade Wilson went, it could have been a lot worse.

“No, no. He’ll just escalate if he finds out. Just cover it with a blanket or something.”

Clint started looking for something big enough to hide the monstrosity as Darcy stood with hands on her hips. She tilted her head speculatively as she examined it more closely.

“Where the hell do you buy an enormous plushy burrito, anyway? Especially one so freaking realistic.”

“Knowing him, he probably made it,” Clint mumbled from inside the linen cupboard.

That was definitely worse.

“Damn it, Clint! Now I’m just going to spend the rest of the time worrying about what he filled it with!”


	4. If You'll Be My Bodyguard (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Darcy roadtrip

“I’ve got the go bags, hurry up, let’s go!”

Darcy grabbed Clint’s arm with her free hand and attempted to drag him down the hallway to the elevator. The downside to dating a man with  _all_  the muscles: couldn’t budge him unless he wanted you to. Right at that moment he seemed content to let her suffer and refused to go faster than his casual saunter.

“Don’t rush me; it’s not my fault we’re in this situation.”

She slumped her shoulders and tugged on his arm, letting out a high-pitched whine. He just rolled his eyes.

“Hey, I had plans to spend the entire weekend in bed, with you, clothing discouraged. But no, now we have to go on a stupid road trip to who knows where because someone decided to piss off the landlord.”

“How was I supposed to know Tony would take it so personal?”

“Maybe needing to break through three levels of security to get to his robot should have tipped you off.”

“Please, you know how paranoid he is. Three levels deep is the same as his favorite turntable.”

“He’d named the damn thing Tony 2.0! Of course he’s going to be pissed you Hello Kittied it!”

She couldn’t hold in a giggle at the reminder.

“I know and it was  _fabulous_!”

Clint planted his feet and Darcy let out another whine.

“You’re not exactly arguing your point here.”

“Fine, if you get me out of here and keep me safe from Tony for the rest of the weekend I’ll let you pick the music for the drive.”

“As if you’d have a choice,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms.

“Fine. You’ll pick the tunes and I’ll limit myself to only one complaint per every hour we listen to your godforsaken music.”

He stayed where he was and raised a brow. Darcy began to anxiously shift her weight from foot to foot.

“And?”

She sighed.

“ _And_ I’ll do that thing you like every night until we get back.”

His grin was immediate and thoroughly filthy.

“Done. Follow me.”

He grabbed her hand and headed in the opposite direction of the elevator to the emergency stairs. Darcy heard the elevator chime as the door to the stairway closed. Clint, ninja that he was, already had her down two flights of stairs before she heard Tony’s first bellow.

“LEWIS!”


	5. The Lab is Not Enough (Darcy/Lance Hunter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Hunter with “where the hell did that clown come from”

Darcy ducked behind a lab table as the guy Jarvis identified as Grant Ward began monologuing and waving a weird gun on the other side of the lab.

“Where the  _hell_  did that clown come from?” she muttered to herself.

“That’s an affront to hard-working children’s entertainers everywhere.”

She whirled her head around to see Lance Hunter, Phil’s new flirty English minion, come around the corner of her table with his gun drawn.

“Not that I don’t appreciate an attractive man with moxie, but do you really want to quibble over nuances at a time like this?”

“Not so much a nuance as a blatant discrepancy, love.”

He leaned against the table to shift up and glance over the top before dropping back down next to her.

“What did you see?”

“Well, he’s blocking the exit and has a clear view of any approach back-up might take.”

“Yes, and is waving some alien tech around while detailing his crazy. If this is the kind of company you keep, I vote we never invite you guys to come play Science! again.  _Ever_!”

“Now, really.” He gave her a cocky grin. “It just gives me an opportunity to display my dashing heroics.”

The vent above their heads shifted and Darcy spotted the end of a barrel poking out.

“Looks like you’re too late to save the day there, Bond.”

A soft whistle preceded a loud thud; Darcy hoped it was that Ward guy’s face smashing into the floor as he fell into an unconscious heap.

Jarvis gave the all clear and everyone in the lab stood from their various hiding places. Hunter holstered his gun and grabbed her upper arm, gently pulling her closer to whisper in her ear.

“Then maybe you’ll allow me to help sooth your trauma from the experience.”

He trailed his fingers down her arm as he straightened and shot her a wink before walking away to confer with Coulson.

Yep, her soul could use some soothing right about then.


	6. Hit Me Baby One More Time (Darcy &/ Wade Wilson)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Deadpool with “Damnit Jane, this is the third time this month I’ve time traveled!”

Darcy came to with a moan and opened her eyes to an overcast sky above. She lay still and tried to take stock of her situation. Everything hurt, her ears rang, and it was statistically and scientifically possible she was actually dead. But when she sat up and looked around she realized she was in Central Park. While it was lovely, she doubted that this was what any sort of after-life looked like. 

At least this time she was in New York. The last lab explosion put her in the middle of a goat farm in Argentina. It had taken a week to get the stench out of her hair and Tony still loved to call her Señora Lamb Chop.

But while she was comforted she was miraculously still in the continental US, something was off. Darcy took a minute to look closer at the people walking along the paths. Things were….odd. There were tons of velour tracksuits, frosted tips, and hideously dyed pants. And then she saw a runner—with a discman.

Darcy growled and clenched her fists.

“Dammit, Jane! This is the third time this month I’ve time-travelled!”

“Not as easy as everyone thinks, right?”

She knew that voice.

Darcy closed her eyes and tried not to let out a long whine. Everything just got significantly more complicated.

Of course he kept talking.

“Someone tried to explain it to me once but there wasn’t enough nudity, guns, or explosions, so it didn’t stick. It’s probably something to do with all your little molecules going from one place to the other. Although, there doesn’t seem to be anything little about  _your_  molecules.”

He finally finished talking for the moment, so she opened her eyes and sure enough, there he was. Deadpool; in that garish suit with his hands in front of his chest gesturing about just what type of molecules he’d been talking about. She could swear she saw his eyebrows waggle suggestively through the stupid mask.

“Because I’m totally talking about boobies here.”

Darcy lay back down on the grass and groaned.

“Ugh. Wade. I don’t know if I should feel comforted or terrified that you’re still you no matter the time period.”

“Well who else would I be? Yes, yes, I know, I did try being a velociraptor that one time. But who wouldn’t? Didn’t really work out, though. It might just be because I’m too fleshy colored under the suit. A fact which I think you should totally find out first-hand. Can never take anyone else for their word and all that.”

“Please shut up before I have to hurt you.”

“Ooh, yes please!”

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m very turned on right now.”

Darcy groaned again and tried counting to ten while controlling her breathing.

“Although if you want to get back to your time we should probably hurry over to the meeting point. Jane said something about correct timing being essential and something something, but like I said, not enough guns or explosions. You could still provide the nudity, though.”

She sat up quickly and regretted it as her brain felt like it was sloshing around angrily inside her skull. Time was definitely of the essence by this point if he was telling the truth, though, so she gingerly stood up and glared at him.

“Do you mean to tell you’ve been going on and on and being so…ugh, just being so you when you knew I needed to be somewhere else in order to not have to deal with the horror that is the 2000s all over again?!”

“They’re called the noughties. Or as I like to think of them the _naughties._  And Don’t worry, I’ll totally let you make it up to me.”

“Just tell me where I need to go!”

“Fine. Don’t kiss the messenger then. I get no appreciation.”

“Wade!”

“Just go there.”

Darcy stared at him incredulously when he pointed to a bench only ten feet away.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope, but that reminds me! Have you heard the joke about the time-travelling—“

Darcy stopped listening when she noticed the air around the bench getting hazy and she booked it over as fast as she could. Even if she threw up once she got back to the lab because of running with her woozy head it’d still be worth it; so long as she didn’t have to live through butterfly hair clips again.

* * *

“So not fair! You never let me finish that joke.”

Sorry, Wade. Maybe next time.


	7. Good Eats (Darcy & The Avengers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy & The Avengers as she feeds them

Darcy’s love language was food.

While food didn’t technically qualify as a specific language of the original five, it could arguably be lumped in with gifts, and she embraced that wholeheartedly. If you shared your food, bought her food, cooked her food, or did any combination of the three, she took it as the ultimate sign of respect. So, when she moved into the tower, she promptly decided to adopt each and every single Avenger—meaning: she decided to feed them; sometimes unintentionally.

* * *

“Ah hah! Thief!” Darcy yelled as she ran into the lab.

Tony, the culprit in question, turned around, mouth full, ring of chocolate around his lips blending into his manscaping, and an unopened Ding Dong in his hand. He caught her eyes looking at his loot and quickly hid it behind his back.

“I don’ know wha’ you’re ta’ing ‘bout, Lewis.”

“Yeah, any denial of yours loses all plausibility based on you talking with your mouth full of my Hostess stash.”

He swallowed and grinned at her.

“I repeat; I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Darcy walked over to her desk to check the damage. All the Ding Dongs were gone, but at least her personal sno-ball supply was still in shape.

She glared at Tony.

“You’re seriously going to deny that you were just inhaling all my hydrogenated goodness into your absurd face?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled out the Ding Dong he’d been hiding. Any thought she’d have of his being overcome with remorse was lost when he opened the package and took a bite.

“As if you didn’t buy them with lab funds anyway.”

“Actually, those I didn’t, so there!” she said as she popped a hip and crossed her arms.

Tony shoved the rest of the chocolatey treat in his mouth.

“Fine, bill me,” he muffled through his mouthful of food.

She threw her hands into the air.

“Ugh, why don’t you just buy your own? You could probably buy the whole company.”

“Why do that when it’s so much fun to steal them from you?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes.

“You owe me a box of Ding Dongs! With Honey Buns as interest!”

Tony began making his way to the lab door but turned to taunt her again.

“These are not the snacks you’re looking for,” he intoned waving one hand at her. Then he pulled  a hidden Ding Dong from somewhere and smirked as he waved it at her before pivoting back around.

“Don’t think I’ll forget about this, Stark!” 

* * *

The sound of Darcy’s groan reverberated back at her as she stared into the stock pot.

“Ugh, what am I supposed to do with all this corn?”

“Hold up, you’ve got corn?” came from the vent above her.

“Yeah,” she responded still staring into the pot.

“On the cob?”

She cast a curious glance at the ceiling.

“Yeah?”

Suddenly the vent sprang open and a pair of boots popped out, followed by the rest of Clint.

“DIBS!!”

“Dude, there’s like twenty ears of corn here. Are you seriously going to eat it all?”

Clint didn’t bother answering her, just grabbed an ear from the pot, shook off most of the water, and went to town.

“Okay, do you know how hard it is not to make fun of you for being a little Iowa farm boy right now?”

“Don’t care,” he muttered between bites. “Corn’s delicious.”

Darcy observed his methodical feasting of corn with a mixture of awe and disgust.

“Whatever, dude. It’s your fiber overdose.”

Clint finished the first ear and tossed it into the trash without looking.

“Why do you have all this corn anyway,” he asked as he fished out a second.

“Turns out they don’t have it on Asgard and I thought Thor would want to try it.”

She finally looked away from the train wreck that was Clint devouring corn and went back to cleaning up the rest of her mess from cooking.

“Take it he wasn’t a big fan?” he asked as she heard the second ear land in the trash and the sound of him going for his third.

“No; apparently pretty, pretty princeling doesn’t like it when things get stuck in his teeth.”

Darcy looked over at the archer when he didn’t respond. She’d expected a witty retort as per usual but was instead met with the site of Clint grinning widely, teeth chock-full of corn bits.

“Charming.”

* * *

“Saaaam! Aren’t you ready yet?” Darcy whined from the couch as she waited for said superhero to finish with his mission reports.

“Hold your horses, woman, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just go on your own?” Steve asked coming in from the kitchen. Freaking kiss-up already had finished his reports the day before and maintained that he was actually ‘helping’ Sam with his presence when he made corrections over his teammate’s shoulder.

“Because it’s Taco Tuesday,” Darcy wailed.

“Can’t you go out for tacos on your own?” Steve asked as he lifted her feet to sit on the other end of the couch.

Darcy sighed.

“Not now, I can’t.”

“I heard that tone,” Sam called.

She rolled her eyes at the man’s interjection and sat up to talk to Steve directly.

“Sam and I made a pact. We have to go out and find the best tacos in all of New York. But it wouldn’t be ‘fair’ to one or the other if we got to find Mexican Nirvana on our own, so we must go together.”

“That seems ridiculous,” Steve muttered.

“Hey, it’s not my fault your buddy over here has a major case of FOMO,” Darcy defended jerking a thumb towards where said dork sat.

“I resent that!” Sam hollered from the table.

“You resemble that!” Darcy yelled back.

“Do I want to know? I don’t want this to turn into something that I look up and regret later.”

“Don’t worry, Steve. This one won’t scar you.”

“I don’t know, you said that about that one movie and I’m still feeling pretty scarred.”

“Hey, I said White Men Can’t Jump is thoroughly underappreciated. It’s not my fault you accidentally typed in White Men Can’t Hump.”

* * *

“Toaster strudel this morning?” Tony asked as Darcy walked into the lab. “Going gourmet?”

She set the plate down next to her sleeping scientist and gently pulled the notes out from under Jane’s face before she drooled on them.

“Jane actually took a nap without my prodding. I feel like I should reward her.”

Tony sent her a judgmental look.

“She passed out on her lab table.”

Darcy shrugged and moved to her computer to start transcribing.

“Nuances.”

“Does she know that you’re using food as a positive reinforcement?”

She didn’t bother looking at him as she began typing.

“Probably not.”

“Does it actually work?”

“Probably not.”

“Then why do it at all?”

Darcy turned when Jane grunted at that moment and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She yawned and sat blinking for a moment before noticing the pastries next to her.

“Ooh! Strudel! “

The petite woman stuffed half of one strudel into her mouth and Darcy took a picture of her boss’s chipmunk cheeks before she sent Tony a grin over her shoulder.

“That’s why.”

* * *

“Why do we have thirty pumpkin pies in the fridge?” Sam asked as he walked out of the communal kitchen.

“Thor’s had a bad week,” Darcy responded without looking up from her book.

“Okay, yeah, that doesn’t explain the pies.”

Sam stood at the foot of the couch waiting for an answer, so she glanced up for a moment.

“He’s an emotional eater.”

“And he likes pumpkin pies?” he questioned as he plopped on the other end of the sofa she’d sprawled on.

Darcy set her book down on her stomach and focused on Sam. She figured he’d only been around a couple months and hadn’t had time to learn the all the ropes yet.

“No. Thor  _loves_  pumpkin pies.”

“How many can the guy eat?”

“Well, if he’s limiting himself it’s usually only two for dessert. Five seems to be the magical number when celebrating.”

“Five?”

“Yep. That’s after a full meal, of course.”

“Gross.”

“Dude, you should have seen him after we watched Beaches.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I had Tony’s pastry chef working ten-hour days for a whole week. And that’s not even taking into consideration the serious support we showed Ben & Jerry that month.”

“Yeah, but—“

“No. Until you have seen a bawling Asgardian empty a quart of Phish Food onto a pumpkin pie and eat it with a ladle, you do not get to argue with me on this.”

* * *

Darcy walked into the kitchen and froze when she caught sight of Steve shoveling bites of a quickly-diminishing piece of lasagna into his face.

“Steve, you wouldn’t happen to be eating my lasagna, now would you?”

He froze with the fork halfway to his face to his face, looked down at his plate, swallowed his current bite, and then glanced back up at her guiltily.

“Uh…maybe?”

Darcy sighed and he lowered the fork back onto the plate, hesitated, and then lifted it up slowly.

“Did you want it back?”

She was well aware of his fanatical appreciation of lasagna and should have known better than leaving her lunch leftovers in the communal kitchen. But Jane had insisted there was a breakthrough and needed her assistant pronto. And Darcy wasn’t about to bring her real food anywhere near Tony’s most recent experiment. She’d learned after the last time.

It took days for her to taste anything other than algae.

Darcy took another look at Steve and noticed he was giving her his most contrite expression.

She rolled her eyes. If that wasn’t an act she didn’t know what was.

“No, no. It’s an honor really.” She placed one hand on her heart and waved the other at him. “I’m blessed to have Captain America eat my leftovers that I’ve been fantasizing about since three o’clock.”

“Well in that case.”

Steve shoved another bite in and gave her a shit-eating grin as he chewed.

* * *

“Wow, that smells delicious.”

Darcy glanced down at her bowl and then up at Bruce who was sitting across the lab.

“Uh, it’s just boxed macaroni and cheese.”

“I know.” He gave her small smile and shrugged a shoulder. “But it brings back memories.”

“When do you ever eat stuff like this? I thought you try to be all healthy because better health means better Hulk.”

Bruce continued to look at the screen in front of him.

“I have been known to enjoy a good selection of Kraft products.”

Darcy snorted.

“True, it was mostly in college, but I ate it. Used to buy the bulk pack and then live off it for weeks at a time.”

“Bruce, you onion you. “

He chuckled.

“Oh, yes. I’m a puzzle of cuisine intrigue.”

Tony thought it was odd that Kraft came out with Hulk-shaped pasta a couple weeks later but Bruce laughed and cooked up a box from the promotional shipment.

* * *

“Since when do you eat bacon with latkes? Isn’t that against some kind of rule?”

Darcy glanced over her shoulder to see Clint wandering into the kitchen. It was two in the morning, but it was ridiculously normal to meet many if not most of the Avengers in one place or another of the tower at all hours of the night. Something about crime never sleeps and villains not letting them get regular sleep schedules.

She finished patting down the bacon with paper towels as she answered him.

“They’re raggmunks, not latkes. And they’re not for you, so don’t’ even try it.”

“Aw, Darce,” Clint began his usual whine as he leaned against the counter beside her but then cut off abruptly. “Wait, ragamuffin?”

“Raggmunk.”

“Chipmunk?”

Darcy glared at Clint’s non-expression. He was just screwing with her now.

“They’re Scandinavian. I’m making them for Erik.”

She set the bacon aside and began searching the fridge for the lingonberry jam.

“Since when does he get all the good stuff? I thought you loved me.”

Darcy slapped his hand away from the plate of bacon without looking and he gave her a massive pouty face. He might have been a master archer with crazy reflexes, but her bacon alert was never fooled.

“He’s had a rough couple nights and food from his childhood makes him happy.”

Darcy finally found the jam and let out a triumphant grunt before closing the refrigerator.

“I thought he was from Ohio.”

“He is, but I guess his grandma used to make this.”

Clint hopped up on the counter to watcher her assemble all the food and still looked pathetically hopeful.

Darcy took pity and slid Clint an extra slice of bacon. He silently fist-pumped and she rolled her eyes.

“I thought fish was more traditional over there,” he asked around a bite of bacon.

She shuddered and made fake retching noises.

“I hate fish.”

Clint shrugged and shoved the rest of his slice of bacon in his mouth. 

“Besides, Jane got tired of all my red herring and communism jokes a while back.”

* * *

Darcy took a bite of her laughing cow slice and sighed.

“Man, I miss me some good British cheese. And Tony is ridiculously prejudiced and won’t let me import any. Tool.”

Natasha’s lips twitched into a wry grin.

“I would have thought you would miss the candy more.”

Everyone in the tower was well aware of the younger woman’s infamous sweet tooth. Clint wasn’t likely to ever steal her last Twix after her swift and thorough retribution last time.

“Eh, British candy was either completely awesome or absolutely terrible.”

Darcy spotted the other woman’s raised brow and knew she was humoring her but proceeded with her rant anyway.

“The chocolate was great, but the fruity candies always had a different texture and they replace grape, which is already a problematic flavor in my opinion, with blackcurrant which was horrendous! The cheese, on the other hand, never let me down.”

Natasha hummed quietly.

“I used to be rather fond of blackcurrant candies.”

“No accounting for taste.”

The redhead smiled calmly but left the room soon after to meet with Clint.

And that was when Darcy realized what Natasha had just admitted. Because when was the last time the former assassin and Russian spy was likely to have eaten candy regularly? The only answer Darcy could come up with was before the Red Room and Natasha never really mentioned anything before the last ten years or so.

The next week Darcy snuck a package of blackcurrant crème-filled Russian candies into the other woman’s locker (with major help from Jarvis, of course).

Natasha never acknowledged them, but Darcy found a nice block of English cheddar in her personal fridge a couple weeks later.


	8. Percolation Escalation (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Coffee Shop of the Darcy and Sam persuasion. Because everyone needs more Darcy/Sam in their lives.

“Darcy, I’m going to go do inventory. Can you restock all the flavor station?”

Darcy rolled her eyes as her manager, Stacey, walked out of the room without waiting for a response. Refilling the sugars and syrups was technically in the manager’s purview, but it was early and the morning was slow, so she might as well. 

She was bent over, fishing the last box of hipster raw sugar from the back of the cupboard, when the bell on the door jingled. Darcy looked up and straightened with a grin when she saw who was coming in.

Her day just got significantly better.

“Well if it isn’t, Drill Sergeant Wilson,” she called as the tall, ridiculously fit, and attractive man walked to the counter.

He shook his head with a chuckle as he folded his arms and leaned a hip against the counter.

“How many times I gotta tell you? It’s just Sergeant.”

Darcy shut the cupboard with a snap and gave a terrible mock salute at which he rolled his eyes.

“Sir, yes sir.”

She wasn’t about to forget that detail. In fact, she never had, but there was a tradition of teasing greetings between them to uphold; especially as he’d been gone the last couple of weeks.

Sam Wilson (technically retired sergeant) was an instructor at a local army and navy prep academy and came into their shop every day he didn’t have early- morning PT. Which was surprisingly often considering he was the drill instructor.

But Darcy was not about to mind as the man was very easy on the eyes and even easier with the banter. So, she leaned over the counter to flash her eyelashes at him and get a whiff of his ever-amazing cologne.

“Where’ve you been all my life? And by life, I mean the last couple weeks. Haven’t seen your studly mug around lately.”

He unfolded his arms and turned to rest his hands on the counter leaning closer as well.

“Studly, huh?”

“Absolutely. Like a fairy tale prince.”

He laughed long and loud and she poked one nicely firm bicep to get his attention back.

“Seriously, where’ve you been hiding?”

He shrugged one shoulder and leaned back against the counter on his hip again.

“There was this big drill competition out in DC. Spent all last week there and all the week before that prepping. It was insane; but great.”

Darcy smiled. Sam always liked talking to her about the students and their shenanigans. And nothing seemed to make her heart melt like a gorgeous man who genuinely enjoyed his job and loved the kids he taught.

Before she could get too mushy, she focused back on their conversation.

“Yeah? How’d your boys do? Cream the competition?”

His smile was quick and broad as he puffed out his chest like a proud mama hen.

“Smoked ‘em of course.”

“So, now that you’ve made a glorious return, can I interest you in a sugar-laden holiday special?”

She gestured exaggeratedly at the bright advertisement poster hanging in the window.

Sam glanced over and scrunched up his nose in a grimace.

“Nah, I’ll just go for the usual.”

Darcy smiled ruefully.

“Large, black. Got it,” she said with a nod as she turned to go about getting it.

She wasn’t about to try and argue him out of his choice. Darcy had already tried and lost. Several times. It just didn’t make sense to her shoe-string budget why he’d spend so much for regular coffee. 

Sure, her company was fan-freaking-tastic, but their early morning chat-ups were short-lived and fleeting. right? She’d tried to keep herself from getting too invested, and had succeeded overall, but she still was puzzled over the situation. The man probably wasn’t raking in the dough and must have had someone else to share his stories of teenage drama and hormonal woe with other than poor grad-students who were trying not to have a hopeless crush on him.

So Darcy tried a new tactic to figure him out that morning as she poured his usual order.

“You know you always get the basic, it’d be a lot cheaper if you went next door.”

She tilted her head to indicate the cheap deli across from their shop as she slid his to-go cup across the counter to him.

He took a sip of his drink while maintaining eye contact. When he lowered the cup again, he set it down on the counter and leaned in closer without the usual teasing glint in his eye.

“What makes you think I’m here for the coffee?”

Darcy was momentarily distracted by aforementioned delicious cologne before his words registered. 

Did he just say what she thought he said?

He watched her intently, waiting for a response.

So he did just say what she thought he said.

“Oh. Oh!”

He smiled at her surprise, but his expression became a bit strained when she didn’t say anything else, just continued to stare at him.

“Is that a problem?”

Darcy finally noticed his anxiety and frantically flapped her hands at him for a couple seconds before words came out.

“No, no, not at all. I just,” she paused flustered hands still waving. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“Really?”

“Okay, fine, I had, but then I tossed it out as a ridiculous notion because you’re heinously attractive and I’m just the random girl that tries not to drool whenever you come into her place of work.”

Darcy’s hands froze mid frantic-wave.

Did she just say that?

He was back to smiling, though, so it must have been a good thing.

“Then what did you think all this was?”

With a raised brow, Sam gestured back-and-forth between them.

She’d gotten enough control of her own spastic hands and clasped them in front of her as she shrugged.

“Uh, harmless flirtation and you enabling my schadenfreude of teenage angst over overpriced coffee?”

A throat cleared behind her and Darcy closed her eyes with a squeak: her manager must have walked back in from the store room. How long had she been standing there? Just how much had she heard of Darcy’s fail-boaty interaction? Holy crap, was she going to fire Darcy for disparaging the hipster coffee?

Okay, embarrassment aside, first thing was try to keep her job.

“I mean high-end, gourmet, and valuable coffee.”

Darcy ended on an awkwardly high pitch, but there was a sigh and shuffled steps headed back to the store room, so she still had a job.

That crisis was averted. 

With a breath of relief, Darcy focused back on Sam who still leaned towards her, face serious.

“So, if you weren’t just coming for the coffee, what exactly was it you did want?”

“Well, it could be just coffee if that’s what  _you_  want.”

Darcy paused and bit her lip. 

Was that what she wanted?

Who was she kidding?

Hell no!

The only thing that had been keeping her mild crush on one Sam Wilson from going full-blown was clearly her own awkwardness, which he was apparently willing to look past, amazing man that he was.

With a smile, Darcy unclasped her hands and set them back on the counter between them.

“I think more than coffee sounds good.”

He grinned again and nodded once.

“Good.” He pointed to the covered dish at her elbow. “Then I’ll take one of those danishes, too.”

He gave her wink and Darcy laughed.

Her day had definitely gotten better. 


	9. A Feta Worse Than Death (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's attempts to save Sam don't go as she planned; but they wind up with far better results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short from tumblr.

Sam had a death wish. 

Not because he regularly had crime-fighting parties with Avengers. Nor because he did crazy-ass stunts for what he called “field tests” but were really just an excuse for him to play around with new tech.

No. 

It was because that fool still chose to drink from the carton without inspecting the liquids first. Even in the communal kitchen.

Darcy would have thought he’d have developed some sense of self-preservation after living with some of the deadliest people. Admittedly, Natasha wasn’t poisoning as many people nowadays and Tony had gotten a lot better about leaving combustible liquids lying around. But it still seemed like basic survival 101 for anyone in Stark Tower.

Most of the tower, in fact, was on hyperalert because Clint was being kept out of the field by medical to recover and two weeks cooped up indoors was proving far too conducive for his pranking and shit-stirring ways. 

But Sam Wilson was far too trusting.

So, when Darcy saw Sam lifting up the carton of orange juice that clearly did not have one of her daily safety inspection stickers from that morning (yes it was a thing after she nearly drank Tony’s attempt at the perfect high-proof mimosa before a meeting with Hill), she hurried to grab it before any possibly offensive liquid could be consumed.

And she aimed wrong.

Instead of saving Sam from some ignoble death or just blackmail-worthy fate, she wound up knocking the carton and causing him to pour most of it in his face and down his front.

Sam sputtered as he dropped the container, spilling the rest of the contents on the floor.

“What the hell!?”

Darcy tucked her chin as she raised her hands to placate him.

“I hate good intentions! I did it for a reason!”

He ran his hands down his face to get as much of the orange juice off as he could and glared at her.

“Like what?”

“Saving your life!”

He cocked an eyebrow before grabbing a towel and beginning to pat down his arms and chest. Darcy lowered her hands so she could gesture with them as she talked. Well, that and so she had an unimpeded view of the wet shirt display in front of her. 

Rawr.

“Okay, well, I was saving your social life from horrible embarrassment or emotional extortion.”

Sam’s hand stilled and shot Darcy a smirk.

“If you were so worried about my social life, you could just go to dinner with me; not force an unwanted citrus shower.”

“I was saving you from drinking what was most likely contaminated juice and…wait. Was that an invitation?”

Sam tossed the towel into the sink and smiled at her.

“Depends.”

Darcy put her hands on her hips instantly hopeful and suspicious all at once.

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’ll help me get back at Barton. He totally laced that orange juice with Stark’s weird flavor extracts. What little I actually did drink tasted like bleu cheese.”

She held up a hand to point at him triumphantly.

“See! I told you I was saving your life!”

“From stinky cheese?”

“Hey, orange juice mixed with fetid dairy totally qualifies as gastronomical death.”

Sam chuckled and leaned against the counter behind him, watching Darcy for a moment.

“So you going to respond to my invitation or not?”

She scoffed and stepped into the puddle of orange juice that Sam still stood in.

“Like my accepting was a question.” 

“Well, I didn’t want to presume.”

Darcy stepped even closer.

“Oh, presume away.” 

She leaned up, rolling onto the balls of her feet, and paused as Sam started to lean down closer.

Then she booped him on the nose. 

“Pick me up at seven. We’ll plan your vengeance over dinner.” 


	10. My Pumpkin 'Tis of Thee (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve might not appreciate it when Darcy asks for his backup in a Thanksgiving discussion.

“I’m telling you, Sam, there’s just something wrong with you.”

Darcy’s words were softened by the fact that she was sprawled on top of him as they recovered from their food coma. Sam stilled his hand that he had been running through her hair.

“Seriously? We’ve been over this. My not liking pumpkin pie is  _not_ weird.”

“False.”

From where she was tucked on/between Sam and the back of the couch, Darcy saw Steve walk into the room looking far too comfortable for the entire turkey that he’d just demolished; stupid superheroes and their crazy-fast metabolisms.

However, freaky abilities to consume massive quantities of food and not be sluggish afterwards aside, he was just the man she needed.

“Back me up here, Steve.”

He came to a stop across the room and folded his arms to look at Darcy with a suspicious expression. She figured it was probably with good cause considering some of the more interesting shenanigans Darcy had dragged him into. But the incident with the Governor and the swan had genuinely been an accident.

“And just what am I backing you up on?”

Sam snorted and went back to running his hand through her hair as Darcy giggled.

“That sounds wrong.”

Steve’s face became more stern but she saw the twitch of his lips and knew he probably did it on purpose like the troublemaker he was.

But she had a point to prove and decided to let that one go.

“Anyway, o pervy one, I am trying to prove to Sam that it’s not normal for him to not like pumpkin pie; especially at Thanksgiving!”

“I don’t see why I’m–”

“It’s practically un-American!”

Steve dropped his arms at his sides in exasperation.

“Why do you all see me as the final vote for Americanness?”

Darcy lifted her head to stare at him incredulously.

“Uh, dude?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m telling you, I did not choose the name.”

Sam snorted and Darcy looked down to see his smirk.

“Just like he didn’t choose the tights?”

Darcy snickered for a moment, trying to keep composure to hold her ground in the argument, but finally gave up and buried her face in Sam’s chest as she laughed hysterically.

Steve sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Sometimes I really regret introducing you two.”

Sam chuckled as Darcy continued to howl at his joke.

“Come on, man.”

“Nope, I’m going to go find Bruce, which is why I came in here in the first place. You two can solve your pumpkin disagreement on your own.”

He turned to leave and Darcy forced herself to get her laughter under control to call out after him.

“Sure thing, Captain Tightpants!”

They could see Steve’s shoulders droop with another of his tell-tale sighs and this time it was Sam who laughed hysterically.


	11. Things You Said When You Were Drunk (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title was the tumblr prompt

“We’re going to get SUUUUUUSHIII!!”

Darcy held the phone away from her ear with a grimace. Once Bucky’s yell finally cut off and she gingerly held it back to her ear.

“Yeah, that we are. As soon as Jane and I are done with this whole Science! thing today, we’ll go get sushi.”

“Good.” There was a long pause as he took a very deep breath. “I’m _hungry_.”

“That’s not all you are,” she muttered.

She dropped her head to her desk. The last time Bucky had been this drunk he’d reverted into the thickest Brooklyn accent and had ranted about the Dodgers for a full three hours. And then ate her entire goldfish cracker supply.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she breathed. “Just, how much of the vodka did you drink? That’s the last of the good stuff I had, and I want to know if I need to actually buy more before the Fantastic 4 come by tomorrow and I need to drown my sorrows.”

“Uh…..” she heard a slosh on the other end,” about half.”

Darcy paused. He might have had a diluted version of the super serum, but all that muscle and his legendary liver alone were enough to usually keep that to a slight buzz.

“Seriously, only half? How are you this drunk on only half a bottle?”

He scoffed.

“Because unlike some punks I _can_ get drunk!”

“Uh huh,” she agreed, sitting back up. “How fast did you drink it?”

“Don’t, know. Hey, Jarvis, how fast did I drink that?”

“In approximately 6.3 seconds, sir.”

“Holy shit, Bucky! I know you were doing non-suit-enhanced tactical training with Tony today, but seriously?! It couldn’t have been that bad!”

“Nah,” he drew the syllable out. “I just ate one of your disgusting coconut truffles instead of a raspberry one. Had to get the taste out of my mouth.”

Darcy let out a long groan.

“You suck dude. Not only was that my last coconut truffle, but you have severely impacted my sanity recovery plan for tomorrow.”

“’m sorry.” 

She snorted in response.His dejected tone had her easily picturing his purposely guilt-ridden eyes and pouty lips. An effective weapon.

“We’ll stop by the store later.” She lowered her voice and whispered, hoping Jane couldn’t hear her and once again hassle her for making depraved suggestions while on the clock, “then _after_ sushi, I’ll let you make it up to me. A few times.”

But Bucky, bless him, in his inebriated state, caught on to the wrong part of that hint.

“SUSHI!”


	12. Things You Said That Made Me Feel Like Shit (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt of the same title.

“And then there was that one time you went on for a solid five minutes about how awesome of a shot Sharon is when you were teaching me and I could barely hit the target. Oh, or the time you told Sam I snored louder than any of the Howling Commandos.”

Steve hung his head and then looked back up at Darcy, eyes pleading.

“I know, I know. I’m a terrible romantic choice, but can we please move on?”

She folded her arms, cocking one him to stare at him unimpressed. 

“Nope.”

He sighed.

“Darce-”

“That’s not what you said a minute ago,”

He let out a frustrated grunt.

“I told you, I’m tired, my sentence came out wrong.”

She narrowed her eyes into a the murder glare she’d been perfecting with Natasha, and restrained a smile when he flinched.

“You did say that. But you also just called me Tony, so I’m inclined to remember the whole offending my honor and referring to me as Stark’s evil moniker part.”

He groaned, running his hands through his hair.

“You’re never going to forget this, are you?”

“No way, buster.”

He started to groan again, but the checked himself, and Darcy knew she was in trouble when she caught the glint in his eye.

Steve straightened, dropping his arms as he came closer. His large hands clasped her elbows, pulling her into his chest so he could gently rest his hands on either side of her neck, his thumbs dragging along the underside of her jaw.

She fought off a shiver, but he caught the motion, his lips hitching up on one side.

“What if I promise to wear my old dress uniform and take you dancing this weekend.”

She hummed, and he began rubbing the back of her neck for advantage.

“I’d even pretend it didn’t bother me when you post a picture of us on facebook. And your grandma asks when we’re getting married already. And your mom and sister like it because you still haven’t told them we eloped six months ago.”

Darcy bit her lip, considering. He had a point.

“Fine, I’ll forgive you,” she said and unfolded her arms, giving him a pleased smile as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

He let out a breath, leaning down slowly.

But before his lips met hers, she whispered.

“Doesn’t mean I’ll forget, though.” 


	13. Things You Said Through Clenched Teeth (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title be the prompt from ye olde tumblr

With a sigh, Darcy set down her bag on a couch in the entryway of Xavier’s mansion and pulled out her phone. She hadn’t given her friends much notice before escaping the Tower to save herself from homicidal temptations involving Tony and Clint for their stupid April Fools pranks. But with any luck, she could find out where Rogue was, and keep a low profile. 

Because after a couple of months of playful flirting with Remy, she might have accidentally on purpose thrown herself at him and her last visit had ended with a rather unplanned make-out after a very unwise amount of poker and tequila. It was totally his fault, though. Pick-ups and come-ons in that accent just had a new flair. 

But he would probably want to talk about it, and it most likely would involve one of those “this was fun, but that wasn’t what I was going for” conversations like she’d had senior year in high school. And junior year in college. Or like she’d had with Ian when she left London.

That was just a whole lot of adulting and angst she didn’t want to deal with right then. Luckily, her ability to avoid mature interactions and possible rejection was just about on par with her ability to run from murderous aliens.

“Darcy, thank goodness you’re here!”

She turned to see a surprisingly flustered Ororo Munroe hurrying towards her.

“Uh, yes I am?”

The other woman smiled, but it was more relief than welcome as she looped her arm through Darcy’s, leading her towards the stairs.

“Kitty just came down with the flu, and we need someone else to stand in for the birthday party we had planned today.”

“I thought school was out.”

They had made it to the second floor and Darcy looked around the empty hallways for some sort of clue as to what was going on. 

“It is, but we always have a few kids that stay year-round. It’s better for some of them.”

She nodded silently, remembering some of the stories Rogue had told her. How bad could it be to pitch in? Maybe Remy would actually be called out for a mission or something.

“Right. So what’s this about me supposed to be doing something in place of Kitty? She’s pretty awesome and I’m not sure there’s much I could do as a replacement, especially if it involved running through objects and what not.”

But instead of answering, Ororo just pulled her into a room that had piles of satin and taffeta lying around in heaps, and Darcy began to feel very anxious.

“Our youngest student is turning seven today and requested a Disney princess themed party.”

“Uh huh…”

The other woman headed toward a spectacularly high pile that was a yellow-gold color.

“Kitty was going to be Belle.”

Darcy’s eyes widened and she began shaking her head emphatically.

“No, just no. I can’t do that! I’d never live it down! Tony calls me princess enough as it is!”

“Come on, please! Vanessa’s had a really hard year and we’re all pitching in. Even the professor is dressing up!”

After a moments hesitation, she let her curiosity get the best of her.

“As who?”

“Dopey.”

She snickered at that before sighing and holding out her hand for the frothy behemoth of a dress Ororo still held.

“Please tell me Logan is Grumpy. That is something I would pay to see.”

Ororo smiled in relief and pulled out a wig and accessories from a garment bag as Darcy began changing.

“No, he’s Prince Phillip. For some reason he refused to be anyone else.”

Darcy let out a snort as she finished pulling the dress up, impressed that it seemed to actually fit, and turned for Ororo to zip the back up.

“Who’s Aurora?”

“Rogue, she’s been practicing her princess voice all week.”

The two women laughed, but then Darcy was struck by a thought.

“Wait, is Hank the Beast? Because that would be hilariously perfect.”

Ororo finished zipping the dress with a firm tug and began backing towards the door.

“No, he’s actually going as the genie from Aladdin.”

Darcy paused in her reach for the wig and turned.

“So who’s my prince?”

There was a flash of a smirk on the other woman’s face before she stepped through the door, calling after her.

“I have to go get my Kida costume on. I’ll see you out back in an hour!”

* * *

With a grumble about bait and switch tactics and a fake smile, Darcy rearranged her wig for the upteenth time.

“Come now, cher. You could act like this isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

Her teeth came together with a clack as she turned to Remy, dressed in his stupid gold and blue coat that fit him all too well. He had been charming and polite all evening, never mentioning that ill-fated kiss. 

And it was making her nervous.

“Just remember: if Tony finds out about this, you. Are. Dead!”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that many times tonight. I never knew you were one for such violent threats.”

Before she could respond, the swells of the Sleeping Beauty waltz came on and Darcy could hear the enthusiastic claps of Vanessa, who most definitely was having the time of her life.

“YAY! All the princesses and princes need to dance!”

Yay…

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, if she hadn’t been forced to dance with Remy, and only Remy, for ten dances already because ‘he was her prince!’. How many romantic songs could there really be?

The answer: too many.

But then Remy slid his hand down her arm to gently clasp her elbow, leading her onto the designated dance floor. She sighed as she settled into his arms, once again cursing whoever had designed his costume. Because it definitely did nothing to hide the muscles she’d had to have her hands on all night, and did nothing to keep her from wanting to feel around, finding out just how much else it didn’t hide. 

With a shake of her head, she caught herself, and forced her eyes to stare somewhere over his right shoulder.

He let out a low, soft chuckle.

“You sure do know how to wound a man, petite.”

She huffed.

“What are you on about now, LeBeau?”

When she focused on his face, he had an easy smile in place, but there was something else pulling at the corners of his eyes.

“I never figured you for the love ‘em and leave ‘em type.”

Darcy sighed, opening her mouth to answer him, but nothing came out.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what you meant by that kiss all evening. I thought it was obvious at the time, but then you ran away. Are you trying to tell me without so many words we got our signals crossed?”

It took everything she could to keep her feet moving with the music. She stared at the cravat at his neck, trying to think of something that wouldn’t be too embarrassing, and forced her mouth open to get something, anything out.

“Oh, you know, it’s just that I kinda got way over my head when flirting with you and found myself sort of half in love with you but I didn’t know if you meant anything and then I practically assaulted you and freaked out because I thought it was all just me.”

She ran out of air and closed her eyes as she tried to breathe.

So much for not embarrassing herself. 

But he chuckled again, more solidly this time, and she felt his hand on her back shifting to pull her closer.

“Is that all?”

She took one last breath before trying to look at him again. But only got as as his chin.

“Remy-”

He cut her off.

“Love you say?”

His lips were pursed and she finally looked into his face. His eyes were crinkling at the corners and he was definitely fighting a smile. With a sigh and weight off her shoulders, Darcy let out a mildly strangled laugh.

“Only half.”

He hummed pulling her closer until her chest brushed his as they moved.

“Mais, we’ll just have to fix that then.”

Her breath hitched as she watched his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m already at least three-quarters gone.”

They both slowly came to a halt and he let go of her hand to cup her face. With a pause to make sure it was okay, he slowly bent to bring his lips to hers. Everything was much slower, deeper, and genuine than with the last kiss, and the music and all else faded.

“About damn time!” 

She pulled back to see a disgruntled, yet pleased Prince Phillip watching them. With another huff and a nod at her, and a frown at Remy, he escorted Aurora, who was giving them a thumbs up, off the dance floor.

Darcy giggled but then remembered that were at a young child’s birthday party and sort of in the middle of the dance floor that was now emptying out as the song had ended. 

Her hand found Remy’s, and as they made their way back to the edge of the crowd, she smiled up at him.

“Shall we revisit that later?”

His hand squeezed hers and he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You know it. No way I’m letting you run away this time.”


	14. Things You Said When You Were Scared (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is the prompt

“You don’t have to say anything else.”

“Clint-”

“I know it’s going to hurt, but it has to happen.”

“I just-” Darcy paused, at a loss for words.

“Please, just get it over with,” he murmured, dropping his head and turning slightly.

This time she sighed.

“Seriously? It’s just a band-aid.”

He swiveled back to face her.

“And it’s going to hurt like a bitch, so let’s get it over with already.”

He turned so she could actually reach the bandage that he was surprisingly unable to reach with all his freaky carnie flexibility. Admittedly, it was one of those super-strength, not likely to come off unless you took a sander to it, bandages, but still. 

With a grumble she stepped closer and and reached up.

“I swear. If you’re always such a baby, it’s no wonder medical let’s you get away with not going after missions.”

Her fingers grabbed the edge of the sticky fabric, and she could feel his shoulder tighten under her hand, and saw his entire body clench.

“You ready?”

He nodded tightly.

She stepped closer, but then leaned back again.

“And remember, you’re the one that asked me to do this. You can’t hold this against me.”

He grunted.

“I know, you made me promise that like twelve times, just do it already.”

He took another deep breath, tensing once more.

She rolled her eyes, but made sure she had a firm grip.

“At your command, princess.”

Darcy braced herself with her other hand and pulled for all she was worth.

But she sure hoped Jarvis had recorded it. She wanted to remember the night she discovered Clint could hit a high G.


	15. Things You Said After You Kissed Me (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is once again the prompt

Darcy tried to catch her breath, focusing on the feel of Steve’s large hands on her cheeks, as she felt his breath across her lips.

“Shit.”

Her eyes flew open as his hands jerked away from her face.

That wasn’t exactly the response she’d been expecting.

Steve had taken a large step back, hands now clenched by his side as he watched her.

“Shit.”

“You already said that.”

“I’m so sorry, Darce. I didn’t mean…” he paused, fisting his hands in his hair, looking anywhere but at her. “I screwed it all up.”

Which, was stupid. Because she had been very involved and enthusiastic about that kiss. Not to mention the lead up to it, and what she had been hoping for after.

With a slow step towards him, she tilted her head to the side.

“Okay, I’m trying to understand; are you upset that you kissed me at all or over how you did it?”

“I’d never regret,” but he cut himself off and paused. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“Steve-”

His shoulders heaved as he breathed rapidly.

“I mean, I thought that was where we were headed, but then you pulled back last week, and-”

Darcy finally stepped towards him and physically covered his mouth with her hands, making his entire body finally still.

“You mean last week when you were purposely wearing that skin-tight shirt?”

He went to say something, but she held her hands more firmly in place, forcing his words to become a garbled mumble that she chose to ignore.

“You mean last week when you were literally trying to hand-feed me the most decadent chocolate ever because, and I quote, ‘it made you think of me’?”

This time he nodded, but she kept her hands where they were. She wasn’t about to let him screw this up now.

“You mean last week when I had to send myself to my room so that I didn’t jump your bones in the middle of the communal kitchen?” 

He took a moment to register what she’d said, no doubt trying to come up with counter-attacks to her argument, ever the soldier. But then his head tilted back and his eyes widened.

“I would just like to say that it is very much not my fault this time we didn’t get a chance to talk about this whole thing and what not. Because otherwise you would have been in no doubt about how very much it was okay for your to kiss my brains out just because I pretty much assaulted you on accident.”

She felt his lips turn up under her hands, and her own responded in kind. 

“Okay. Let’s try this again. I’m going to move my hands, and you are going to kiss me again.” She paused to emphasize the surety of her knowledge. “It is going to be freaking amazing.”

His smirk was definitely a full grin under her fingers.

“And this time you’re not going to freak out afterwards because you failed to notice just how into it I was. You got it?”

She moved her hands an inch away from his face, enough for him to give the right answer.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, voice decidedly lower than his frantic tone just a moment earlier.

She nodded, setting her hands on his collar bone.

“That’s much better.”

He settled his hands on her hips, easing closer and leaning in.

Before their lips met again, she breathed out another promise.

“And then later we can talk about just what I really wanted to happen last week.”


	16. Things You Said While We Were Dying (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: As the title would suggest, there be angst ahead. You have been forewarned.

Darcy was going to die. She might suffocate to death. Or she might freeze to death. Her final demise was still up for debate at that moment.

Steve stood on the other side of industrial freezer they were trapped in, once again unsuccessfully trying to muscle his way out. 

If Tony were there, he would calculate all the ratios, measurements, and math. He’d know how they’d die, at least.

Running from a Metal Deathbot was one thing. Running from murderous illegal alien elves was another. Hell, even running from HYDRA was sounding pretty damn good at that moment.

Because all of those had involved running. Doing. Surviving.

But now she sat there, unable to break, think, or talk her way out of this one. And she was going to die. She was going to die with Captain ‘I can’t let others see me facing any chance of my own mortality” America.

And he hadn’t spoken a word to her in the last hour. 

She was probably going to freeze to death while being emotionally frozen out by Capsicle himself. How ironic. Or just unfortunate. She really wasn’t up for debating nuances right then.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Her verbal litany, and the fact that her breathing ticked up with every curse finally drew Steve’s attention.

“Darcy, I’m really going to need you to slow your breathing. We have to conserve as much oxygen as possible.”

The only reason she didn’t gesture rudely was because it would have required she remove one of her hands from the safety of her armpits and expose it to another chance of frost bite.

“No shit Sherlock. You think I don’t know that?”

He clenched his hands, no doubting counting in his head to manage the frustration she caused him. A common attitude from him in the last while.

“Darcy-” his voice had lowered to that authoritative tone, and she was not about to have any of that.

“No. You do not get to give me some sanctimonious, douche-hole lecture right now. I’m dealing with the idea that I might die in the near future with the dick who kind of broke my heart, and if you want me to pipe down and not hyperventilate, you can go ahead and knock me out.”

He hesitated, not taking his own advice as he began to breathe deeply and more quickly.

“Look-”

“No. Because if I’m going to die in this frozen hell pit with you, I might as well go down in a blaze of glory. So, I am going to talk about emotions, feelings, and all the shit that you’ve been avoiding for the last two months.”

His teeth clacked shut, and the muscles of his jaw flexed, contracting forcefully.

“Just remember you’re the one that left.”

She leaped out of her huddled squat she’d sunk into earlier for warmth.

“Oh, I remember. You know what else I remember? I remember how you would never tell me what was bothering you, even if it was me. You’d just go off for some brood fest on that damn motorcycle of yours.”

He didn’t respond, just watched her, teeth clenched.

“I remember how your honor or pride, or whatever stupid bullshit sense of righteous idiocy you want to call it, had you _ordering_ the team not to tell me when you got hurt because you didn’t think it was _right_ for me to worry.”

This time he folded his arms, eyes narrowed.

“I remember how you used to drop everything, and I mean everything, without a moments notice or heads up, disappearing for any length of time you pleased.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but she was on a roll, grateful that she was finally shaking from something other than the cold, her hands not noticing the cold as she gestured furiously.

“Oh, I’m not talking about for work. I’m talking about you leaving me behind for any chance for a pissing contest with some government official. I’m talking about you leaving the country for weeks on end without warning because you’d gotten some fifth-hand information that was six months old about Bucky.”

He would have clammed up at the mention of Bucky, just like he always had, but he it didn’t matter. He’d given up trying to argue, instead just standing there as she finally got to let it all out. 

Darcy felt big, fat tears forming at the corners of her eyes, felt the floodgates of her nose struggling, but she couldn’t stop now.

“I remember how I just wanted you to choose me for once. To pick me as the most important thing, even if it was just for a day, an hour, hell a minute. I was in love with Steve Rogers, but you wore Captain America’s persona as a shield so much that I don’t think you even knew where he ended and you began.”

They stood there, maybe ten feet apart, but a frozen crevasse spreading between them. The tears had begun rolling down her cheeks, her nose began dripping, and she felt her lip quivering. But he still wouldn’t say anything.

“And most of all I remember how I’m still stupidly in love with you but it’s hopeless, and I’m going to die with the one person who I wanted the most, but never saw me as worth it.”

Her voice broke on a sob, and he finally snapped, crossing the distance in three strides and pulling her into his chest.

They sank to the floor, and he pulled her into his lap, yanking off his coat to cover her with it now that she couldn’t argue. He tucked her face into his chest, wrapping as much as he could around her, still not saying a word.

He stroked her hair, holding her close until her sobs subsided, until her breathing slowed, until she just lay there, emotionally spent.

She didn’t say a word.

And he hated himself, for knowing she was right. Hated himself for knowing she deserved so much better, but he had not been willing to bend and spread himself in a new direction. 

He hated himself for knowing that if the team didn’t find them soon enough, he would still probably survive.

But Darcy wouldn’t.


	17. Things You Said While We Were Dying - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More angst. Blah blah, warned you have been.

Machines beeped and the scent of antiseptic filled the air. It was a far too familiar place, a far too familiar sense of helplessness. 

It was better than the alternative.

Steve stood outside the hospital room, hands clenched, breathing controlled. Right where he’d been standing for the last hour, ever since medical had cleared him. They hadn’t so much as cleared him as said he’d live before he was up and looking for where they’d taken Darcy. 

He wasn’t sure what he looked like, what expression his face held, but a nurse had taken one look at him when he’d brusquely asked where Darcy was taken and given him the information he’d wanted. He had run as fast as his somewhat shaky limbs would take him. Coming to a standstill outside her door.

But he hadn’t been able to walk in.

So he listened to the beeps, tried to keep the fear from mixing with the smells of soap, and breathed.

He could hear the medical staff talking despite their quiet voices. Severe hypothermia. Extended CPR. Broken ribs. Possible frostbite. Extracorporeal rewarming. All the terms floated and mashed together in his head, making him want to run away for the first time in a very long time. To find something to hit or someone to yell at. To go back to being Captain America, the hero that others needed so he didn’t have to focus on what he wanted. That’s what he did best.

But he hadn’t been able to leave.

A nurse who had awkwardly squeezed around him a few minutes before to get into Darcy’s room came back out. She shut the door quietly, turning to send him a pitying smile, giving his elbow a soft pat as she moved past.

He’d gotten pity before. More times than he could count. Pity that he was sick and frail. Then pity that he’d lost his friend. Then pity that he’d lost everything he’d known, everything that had ever mattered to him. And as much as he’d hated the pity, this felt worse.

It felt like a verdict.

One he didn’t like.

Time continued to pass. He didn’t know how long. Didn’t know how many breaths he’d taken. How many times he’d gone through all the vague memories of the team finding them: shouts, confusion, panic. How many times he’d wondered if there was any way he could have prevented this. He knew it had been a trap; that if they hadn’t been in the freezer Darcy probably would have just been shot and killed immediately.

But he hadn’t been able to keep from wondering.

An announcement came over the speaker, startling him out of his daze, calling some doctor to help. Something he wished he could do.

With a shake of his head, he grunted at himself in disgust. There was something he could do. 

With a final pause to listen, he reached out, turning the handle and taking a hesitant step into the room. At first all he could see was Darcy: engulfed, covered, surrounded. Despite the fact no one spoke, it felt like a cacophony of noise from all the sensors and machines that circled her.

When he took step forward, he heard a huff.

Jane Foster sat, hands clasped in the sheets at Darcy’s hip, hair frantic, clothes disheveled, and eyes narrowed at him.

“You have no right to be here.”

Thor stood silently in the corner, neither condemning nor denying as he loomed, standing watch over his beloved and his fallen sister.

Steve opened his mouth slowly, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d been able to get any words out.

“No. You do _not_ belong here! Darcy is hurt and only those that care about her should be here.”

“I-“

Jane leaned forward, chin almost connecting with the side of the bed.

“You have no _right_ to be here.”

Steve was silent, unable to make an argument. Because deep down he knew that Jane wasn’t wrong. He’d given up many things, and squandered others. He no longer had a right to worry about Darcy. 

But he hadn’t been able to stop.

He looked to Thor as the Asgardian stepped forward. He had sympathy in his eyes, but merely shook his head, moving closer to set a hand on Jane’s shoulder. Neither a judgment nor a condemnation; a solidarity that Steve had no part of right then.

With a sigh that shuddered from his chest, Steve dropped his shoulders. He took another look at Darcy, her pale face, thankfully no longer blue. He didn’t dare take a step forward, but he took long enough to look that Jane started to shift.

After a quick, tight nod, he turned and left the room.

But he hadn’t been able to go far.

So he sat in the chair outside, tipping his head back until it rested against the wall.

There were mission reports he could file, debriefs he should attend, and shit to handle.

But he wasn’t able to care about that.

So he sat. Waiting.

Hoping it was a start.

Hoping it wasn’t too late.


	18. Fainting Round One (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy worries sometimes, about her boyfriend's habits of bringing home strays. Not to mention his friendship with certain red-bodysuit clad anti-heroes.
> 
> From the prompt: You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, guys. I just realized how dang long it has been since I've updated on AO3. I've mostly been doing prompts or not writing at all over the last couple months, what with moving and lack of motivation. So, there's a heck of a lot of chapters coming up in this.

Staring at her phone, with a stack of Science! notes tucked under her arm, Darcy made her way down the hallway.

That was, until something caught her foot and sent her sprawling towards the ground much faster than she would like. But she was suddenly held six inches off the ground with a pair of hands firmly gripping her ribs and her eyes crossing to focus on her phone directly on the ground in front of her.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

With a glance to her right, she caught saw the tell-tale red and black thigh and let out a groan.

“First of all,” she wiggled until he let go, which meant she dropped the last little bit to the floor, and she sent him a glare once she finally flipped over to look at him, “I did not faint, Wade. Second of all, it was your damn combat boots that tripped me.”

Deadpool stopped looking at Darcy to clap excitedly.

“Oooh, do you think she’ll write me a sonnet about hating my big, dumb combat boots?”

Doubtful, Wade. Doubtful.

“Third,” Darcy continued used to his behavior by now, “why the hell are you breaking into our apartment. Again?”

He shrugged.

“Like I need a reason.”

With a groan, she closed her eyes for a minute, hoping he’d just go away.

No luck.

Without bothering to sit up, she yelled.

“Clint! Your undead stalker is here!”

“Hey, technically that’s not true.”

She didn’t bother with a response. It wasn’t worth it.

Thankfully Clint came around the corner soon.

“Uh, Darce? Why are you on the floor?”

She waved a hand dismissively through the air above her.

“Oh, I just thought I’d hang out at the level of my hopes for us to have a normal home life ever again.”

He looked at Deadpool who shrugged again.

“I can’t help it that she’s so blown away by my awesome.”

With a shake of his head, Clint stepped forward to help his girlfriend off the floor, giving her a quizzical look once she was upright.

“Don’t look at me. He’s the one that broke in. Again!”

A huff came from the side.

“Come on. You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing! It’s called, trespassing, breaking and entering, forced entry. Whichever one you want to go with, but they are all illegal!” 

The red and black shoulders lifted in nonchalance again.

“Nuances.”

Clint figured it was best to cut in, pulling Darcy in for a hug from behind, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder to look at Wade.

“Okay, varying interpretations aside, why are you here?”

“I have a job you might be interested in.”

He hesitated.

“Please tell me this isn’t another accidental raid on a retirement home that we have to do birthday party appearances to make up for again.”

“That was amazing, and don’t tell me otherwise.”

Both Clint and Darcy sighed.

“Fine,” he said, hands lifted in surrender. “It’s a dog smuggling ring.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. They’re hoarding a bunch of them. Poor things are in pretty bad shape.”

Darcy felt Clint’s body tense behind her and already knew his answer. She turned in his arms to look at his face, noting that he was trying to hide any tells. But she knew.

“Fine. Go. Kick bad guy butt. Save adorable creatures. Don’t cause too much havoc.”

“Thanks, Mom!”

She ignored Wade’s interjection to fix her boyfriend with a pointed stare.

“But I swear, if you bring home more than one dog, you are in so much trouble.”

His eyes grew round, and stared at her for a moment.

She sighed.

“Fine. Two. But no more!”

He let out a laugh, gathering her for a quick hug.

“Love you, babe!” He gave her peck on the cheek and headed for the door after Wade. “Don’t wait up!”

She lifted hand in a resigned wave and went to see how much dog food they actually had in the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm way behind on responding to comments. I've clearly slacked off on my AO3 duties, but if you do comment now, I promise I'll be here sooner than four months from now...


	19. Fainting Round Two (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam may have some apologies to make, good thing Darcy is in a forgiving mood.
> 
> From the prompt: You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.

Darcy finished with a raised brow that had Sam rubbing at the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah…sorry about that.”

She huffed and went back to watching the hospital tech putting the strips of her fancy, new plaster cast on her arm like paper mache. 

Sam had done nothing but apologize so far. Turned out having over 200 pounds of unconscious super hero unceremoniously land on top of you tended to have you tumbling down in a not so fun way really did not really help your bone structure.

Not exactly how she’d wanted to wind up with him in her arms.

“I meant it,” she finally said without looking up.

“Huh?”

His brows were furrowed, hands tucked against his sides under folded arms, but he was paying attention to her.

She sent him a small smile, glad that while he might not be as quick on the uptake as she would like, he wasn’t anywhere near as confused when he’d finally regained consciousness earlier and gotten off her poor arm.

“If you wanted a date or something you should have just asked.”

He quietly groaned, but she figured it was at himself because he finally looked back at her, his expression lightening.

“Well then, when we’re done here, you want to go get some coffee or ice cream or something?”

She chuckled as she nodded.

“Dude. You owe me so much ice cream.”

He huffed in agreement, and her smile shifted to one side as she bit her lip.

“I might also request we kiss and make up. You know, ensure there’s no issues for our future working relationship.”

He finally laughed for the first time that night, arms loosening from his protective hold as he stepped closer to hold her hand, standing beside her as they both waited for her cast to be done.

“You know, I just might think you’re right.”


	20. Fainting Round Three (Darcy/Warren Worthington III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Darcy surprises those who know her best. But they really should be used to her awesomeness by now.
> 
>  
> 
> From the prompt: You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.

”You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Warren rolled his eyes as Darcy finished recounting her tale of how they met to him rather than the older woman who had asked the question. 

He’d worried that Darcy might not be up for the society parties he was required to attend, but that had been shortsighted. She had taken to it with aplomb and he was often the one left scrambling.

“Once again, I was only dazed, and it was because your pal Logan decided to throw Colossus right into my flight path.”

She patted his elbow before linking her arm through his and making their excuses with whatever society woman she had been chatting to. 

“Sometimes I start to regret ever saving you from that rooftop,” he grumbled as she pulled him into a dark corner.

He felt her smile when she’d pulled his face down to hers for a kiss, giggling as she teased him, finally becoming his Darcy again rather than the act she’d put on for the night.

When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his.

“No you don’t,” she murmured as she scratched her fingers along his scalp until her fully relaxed into her. “You love me.”

With a sigh and a smile, he rubbed his nose playfully along hers.

“Right again, Mrs. Worthington. Right again.”


	21. Fainting Round Four (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not so easy catching a superhero, but apparently the reward is well worth it.
> 
> From the prompt: You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.

With a grunt, Darcy lowered most of Bucky’s weight down until she could balance his shoulders on of her knees. Thankfully she was on his right side, so the ground could support the metal arm. Dude weighed a hell of a lot more than Ian did.

She was about to start shifting him closer to the supportive, thankfully close ground when he became fully conscious again with a start.

“It’s okay there hot stuff. You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

He snorted and levered himself out of her arms, using his metal arm on the ground for balance. He hunkered down behind a wall, pulling her down next to him as he hesitated, no doubt listening to the comm in his ear.

“I’m fine. Where do you guys need me?”

He paused again, then nodded.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

He turned to her with a grin.

“Duty calls, Darce.”

She nodded, but put on a fake pout.

“What, no kiss for my dashing heroics? Don’t you know how to properly thank a girl?”

He grinned as he leaned forward, catching her chin with one hand.

“Why do you think I asked for five minutes?”


	22. Painting Lessons (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's pranks know no bounds, and Sam's gonna find himself in trouble one of these days.
> 
>  
> 
> From the prompt: The paint’s supposed to go where?

“On both Dum-E and the current suit. The one that’s front and center.”

Sam looked down at the container of paint he held, and then back to Darcy.

“Uh, you sure?”

She finally stopped digging through her back of supplies to look at him with a sly smile.

“Don’t worry, it’s washable.” Her lips stretched into a decidedly wicked grin. “Ish.”

She let out a cackle that had him dropping his head.

“Stark’s gonna kill me.”

With a snort, she stood and walked over to grab his face in her hands.

“Remember, you’re just lucky that I brought you onto my team instead of attacking you because you helped Tony.”

He let out a huff even though he knew she was right.

“I swear, I didn’t know I was giving away ‘reconnaissance tactics’ when I told him you and Natasha always went to lunch after her training sessions with him.”

Darcy let out a hum as she brought her hands down to rest on his collar bones.”

“Uh huh. Like I said. You’re lucky.” Then she shrugged. “Besides, you would have gotten pulled in sooner or later, you’re too close to me not to.”

He laughed as he brought his forehead down to hers. 

“I guess it’s what I get for finally talking you into moving in with me.”

“You bet. Now let’s get to work! The equipment isn’t going to bedazzle itself.”

With a bounce and peck to his lips she was off.

Sam shook his head, but he had a smile as he went to find a paintbrush.


	23. Looking at You Kid (Darcy & Tony, Mentions of Darcy/Warren Worthington III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being the non-hero in a group of supers can get really annoying, so Darcy has plans to improve it.
> 
>  
> 
> From the prompt: I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another example of how I fail at writing Tony/Darcy. They're just always friends in my book. I love Pepper and think she's good for him, so I hardly every split them up. And by hardly ever, I mean never.

Darcy lifted a brow, folding her arms around her ribs before she answered. 

“And how would that be, exactly?”

He began twirling the screwdriver he held, watching it instead of her.

“Calculating. You’re looking at me as though you trying to figure out how to get me to give you what you want. I’ve seen it hundreds, hell, thousands of times.”

He was right, but she wasn’t sure how to approach her argument yet.

“What’s your point?”

The screwdriver suddenly stopped and he was looking at her again.

“What is it you want, Lewis? I get the feeling you’re looking for something a little different than most of those other people. I’ve got a Pepper and you’ve got whatever that thing you’ve got going on with He Who Must Not Be Named.”

She let out a sigh.

“You’ve really got to get over your feud with the Worthingtons. Warren and I aren’t ending any time soon.”

“It’s a billionaire thing,” he said as he shrugged. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She snorted in response but decided to play nice. He’d brought it up, so she might as well go for it now.

“Moving on, I’ve been wondering if you might want to collaborate.”

“On what exactly? Because as you already know, Pepper has already ruled out orgies.”

She rolled her eyes, and unfolded her arms to grab her tablet from the table next to her.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Stark. I’m talking business.”

He let out a hum of intrigue as she came closer to hand him the tablet with the plans and blueprints.

He took one look and chuckled.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do you with you getting deposited onto the top of skyscrapers or public icons during the battles in the city, now would it?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t let her annoyance show too much, that would just encourage Tony to say no because he liked to be contrary.

“I need a reliable escape method. I can’t have you guys always flying me off at the first sign of trouble.”

“So you’re hoping to fly off yourself?”

She shrugged.

“I’m not planning on trying to fight or anything, but if I can get me and Jane out of trouble and let you guys work, that’d be much better than the current situation.”

“Tired of the press calling you the Damsel of Liberty?”

She growled.

“It was one time. I’ve wound up on top of the Empire State Building most of the time, but that one damn shot of me on the Statue of Liberty and no….”

He chuckled as he went back to the blueprints, and Darcy leaned against a lab bench, trying to be patient as he quietly mumbled to himself while looking them over.

“These aren’t bad.”

“They better not be. I had to bribe Johnny with three batches of brownies to get those.”

Tony snorted, but she saw the corners of his mouth twitching and began to feel hope.

“That explains it. But, rudimentary basics aside, I think we might be able to whip something up.”

“Really?”

He shrugged.

“Yeah, I figure it seems like a good way to piss off He Who Must Not Be Named.”

She ignored his reasoning to throw herself at him for a hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!! I’ll even let you call Warren Voldemort all you want now!”

He held her back to grin at her maniacally.

“Even in the press?”

Darcy snorted.

“Please. I might. But Pepper would never let you.”

His face crumpled.

“Damn.”


	24. No One Needs to Know (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snipers aren't exactly known for their subtlety.

Darcy paused in her reading to glance up at Bucky, who’d blurted his comment as soon as he came into the room. Not that he needed much preamble. He’d been on that same topic for hours now.

“But I’d know.”

He plopped down on the couch, landing half on her feet and making no apology as he leaned forward, shifting her bent legs away from the back of the sofa so he could rest his chin on one of her knees.

“Yes, but now one _else_ needs to know.”

With a sigh she closed her book, tossing it onto the table next to her. It would be pointless to try and keep reading. Someone clearly had persuasion on the agenda.

“Nope.”

He set his hands on her thighs and pressed his chin further into her knee.

“Aw, come on, doll.”

She narrowed her eyes at his exaggeratedly plaintive expression.

“Why are you so dead bent on me telling you Stark’s zombie apocalypse plan.”

His hands squeezed as he chuckled.

“I know, but next time he says he’s got a backup plan, I can tell him it’s stupid and will never work, and he’ll think I’m just trying to piss him off.”

“Which you are.”

He chuckled at her interruption.

“Yes, but I’ll actually be right that just adds a whole other level of satisfaction.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Satisfaction?”

She felt more than saw his nod as his chin was still on her knee.

“You are such a nerd.”

He shrugged, but then his hands started to slide from their original position. Bucky must have decided on a new tactic.

And she was suddenly feeling far more persuadable.

“I’m all about satisfaction, Darce. You should know that by now.”

And if the glint in his eye was anything to go by, she’d be spilling the undead details before the night was through.


	25. Trust Issues (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint Barton lets very few things get to him, but when they do, it's important to keep them safe.

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Darcy folded her arms and leaned against her doorjamb to send Clint her most disbelieving look.

It wasn’t working yet.

“Really? Not even Kate?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Especially not her. Not after last time.”

She snorted.

“Dude. You need to relax. All she did was dress up your dog.”

He gasped and bent to cover Lucky’s ears.

“Don’t say something like that. He’s still traumatized. You shouldn’t belittle his pain.”

The lovable mutt panted up at her with his tongue lolling out on one side.

“Oh yes. He looks traumatized alright.”

But he wasn’t listening.

“Clint, I am not dog-sitting for you just because you don’t want your beastie to wind up in a Kings jersey again.”

He was still distracted for a moment, whispering assurances and promises of sports blasphemy never happening again to Lucky.

When he finally straightened to look back at Darcy, she merely watched him with one raised.

“Please, Darce? You’re over enough that he genuinely likes you the most. And since I don’t know exactly how long I’m gonna be gone, I want to make sure he’s happy.”

She sighed at his stupid, adorable, ridiculousness. She always did have a soft spot for sweet, yet silly males. Of the canine and human varieties.

At her sigh, Clint smiled, stepping closer to try and seal the deal.

“I promise to make it worth your while.”

He’d lowered his voice and trailed one callused finger from her elbow to her wrist and back.

Darcy held back a shiver and stepped back into her apartment to let Clint and her new charge come in as well.

“If we’re going to discuss business then you better step into my office.”

He crowed and an excited Lucky charged after him into her living room.

She smiled as she shut the door. But she was serious about negotiating, so she yelled so Clint would hear her over his ‘who’s a lucky boy’s and 'this is going to be so much fun’s to Lucky.

“And you better remember that I do not accept payment in mutt kisses. You can only fool me with that once!”


	26. Looking and Longing (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's a lot more observant than Darcy gave him credit for.
> 
> From the prompt: I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice

“What, when I check you out? I already told you, I know how to appreciate the fine specimens around me.”

Darcy ended her tease with an exaggerated waggle of her brows and double wink. Nothing like blatant ogling of all tower residents to share her affection evenly. 

And divert attention.

But Bucky stepped into the lab, coming farther than his usual doorway perch where he’d jauntily flirt before running off for whatever escapade Steve was getting them into that day. 

She forced herself to keep looking at her computer screen, only letting herself track his movements from the corner of her eye. It might have been a better course of action to continue with the over-the-top checking out of his tactical-gear-clad hiney as it came to rest on the desk next to her elbow, but she wasn’t sure she could keep it at that. 

And Darcy Lewis didn’t have a huge, fat more-than-crush-not-going-there-emotion for a certain formerly brainwashed assassin, no way. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

So she stared at her computer and typed.

“You know, I’ve gotten a lot of looks in my life.”

She snorted, and let herself sneak and glance at him, telling herself it would come off as a side-eye.

“You bragging there, Barnes?”

He huffed, bringing his hands to rest on either side of his hips, one hand close enough that she’d brush it if she used her mouse.

So she used the arrow keys instead.

“I’m not saying I haven’t gotten a few of those. Especially back my Brooklyn days…”

Her fingers paused as she hummed, trying to keep the sound light and amused. 

She’d read the books and articles; she knew.

He shifted that hand that was so close, reaching until his palm rested on the inside of her elbow, fingers wrapping around and thumb tucking under the edge of her cardigan sleeve.

Her gaze shot to his face. 

He left his expression open, not trying to hide his half-smile as he watched her reaction.

She quickly looked back down, but couldn’t stop herself form staring at his hand on her arm, especially when it began to trail its way down to her wrist, finally settling with her hand loosely held in his.

“Like I said. I’ve gotten a lot of looks. Flirty from before. Lots of scared and angry lately. But that’s not how you’ve been looking.”

His thumb began to slide softly across the skin on the back of her hand, and she forced herself to swallow.

“And how have I been looking at you?”

His thumb kept stroking, and her eyes followed it, back and forth.

“Happy.”

Her brows came together and she finally looked at his face again.

“Happy?”

Bucky’s half-smile grew.

“Happy when I remember something new. Happy when I tease and joke. Happy when I don’t have to think about how to be me.”

She swallowed again to buy a second.

“We all are happy that you’re doing so well.”

He shook head slowly, smile not diminishing at all.

“No. You know what I’m talking about, Darce.”

“Do I?”

He leaned forward.

“It’s that look Stark gets whenever he’s done pretending Pepper dragging him away is a bad thing.”

Her eyes had to refocus to see his face clearly as it came closer.

“It’s how Natasha looks whenever Clint gets a lucky punch in when she’s kicking his ass in training.”

She could feel his breath on her face, and her eyes drifted closed.

“It’s that look Jane gets whenever Thor is able to get her out of her Science! fog.”

Her breath hitched when she felt his nose bump against hers and his voice came out soft and deep.

“And I’m pretty damn sure it’s how I look every time you come into the room.”


	27. Hate is a Strong Word (Darcy/Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things inspire very strong emotions from one Sam Wilson.
> 
>  
> 
> From the prompt: I wish I could hate you.

“I wish I could hate you.”

Darcy snorted and looked over to where Sam sat on the other end of the couch, dejectedly sunk into the cushions.

“Aw, poor little Sammy. He upset he can’t beat his girlfriend at Mario Kart?”

He turned his head to glare at her.

“It’s not real. You’re not real.”

Her laugh was high and light as she set the game controller down on the table in front of her. 

“Oh, this sounds promising.” She turned to fully face him, waving her hand for him to continue. “Please, do expand upon my many virtues. You’ve been slacking in your wooing duties lately.”

His lips pursed on one side, but he started doing just that.

“You bake the best freaking cookies. You are one of two people I know who can actually get Stark to shut up. You regularly get Thor to quote Mean Girls in press interviews. _And_ you’re pretty bad ass a Mario Kart.”

She laughed lightly, leaning forward to pat his knee.

“And that is why you could never hate me. You looooove me!”

He caught her hand before she could pull it back, instead pulling her across the cushions and into his lap. 

She easily settled, tucking her head under his chin and sighing as his arms wrapped around her.

“You know,” he murmured, “I definitely think I do.”


	28. Artistic Interpretations (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art was never one of Darcy's strongest extracurricular activities, but she has other sterling abilities.

“The paint’s supposed to go _where_?”

Steve chuckled from his easel.

“On the canvas, Darce. That’s usually where you put it when you paint.”

She sighed and gestured helplessly at the blank square in front of her.

“I get that. But what color? Where?! Bob Ross made this look way too easy.”

He turned slightly to glance at her, head tilted.

“Uh…that’s the perky guy with the hair right?”

“Yep. The painting one. Not the exercise one. That’s Richard Simmons.”

“Right.”

He nodded slowly and went back to no doubt what was going to turn into some freaking masterpiece.

A couple minutes later and a still very blank canvas later, she set her palette down with a sigh.

“I can’t do this.”

Steve didn’t even look over from where he was making broad strokes across his canvas.

“Come on.”

She sat and folded her arms as she shook her head.

“Nope. Give me some sharpies and a fake wood veneer. My high school homeroom desk was the extent of my artistic abilities.”

He tsked at her.

“Are you admitting to defacing government property?”

She hummed and leaned over to watch his ass as it moved this way and that with his movements.

“If we could move past the ‘activity’ portion of this date, I’ll show you that’s not the only thing originally paid for by the government that I’m wiling to deface.”

His glance shot to her and he hesitated.

Darcy worried for a moment that he was going to give her another mini lecture on how they needed to actually do something to get out of their comfort zone during their dates. 

But then she caught the smirk slowly taking up residence on one side of his mouth.

“Also, I lied,” she teased. “My artistic talents aren’t limited to markers and desks.” 

He set his own palette down gently and took a step closer to where she had taken up a definite lounge on her stool.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.” She smiled up at him when he stopped inches away.. “I’m downright masterful when it comes to hickey placement.”

He raised his eyebrows with a chuckle, stepping back to grab her hands and pull her to standing.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”


	29. 1 + 1 = (Darcy/Johnny Storm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny has certain ideas of how big news should be properly celebrated.
> 
> From the prompt: I'm pregnant.

“Wait, seriously?!”

Johnny’s voice had risen an octave, but Darcy wasn’t sure if that was good or bad at that point. 

Just because they were soulmates didn’t mean he necessarily wanted kids with her. And they definitely hadn’t been planning for it, or really talked about it yet. And he hadn’t really said much while he watched her brush her teeth after losing her mid afternoon snack/pre-dinner.

Forcing herself to breathe slowly, she nodded and bit her lip.

“I took the test today. I was going to tell you after dinner, but I guess my hormone-induced gastric pyrotechnics ruined that plan.”

He stood stock still for a moment, before suddenly bursting into motion, running forward to pick her up and spin her, laughing.

“You’re pregnant!”

He set her down to grab her cheeks and enthusiastically, if sloppily, smash his lips against hers, and then leaned back to smile goofily.

“You’re pregnant!”

And then he was running towards the balcony, bursting into flames and yelling in excitement before he even made it all the way out the open door and his feet had left the ground.

She giggled as she walked over to watch him loop through the air, still squealing and laughing with every turn.

After one final mid-air twirl, he landed back on the balcony, slightly steaming and fully naked.

“Huh,” he glanced down at himself. “I forgot I decided not to wear the firesuit under my tux.”

With a shrug, he stepped forward, backing Darcy into the room as he slid his hands down her waist, straight to her recently expanding ass.

“Let’s celebrate,” he breathed, beginning to lightly nibble his way around her ear.

She couldn’t hold back another giggle as she pinched his ribs.

“That’s what got us in this situation in the first place.”

He paused to look down at her face.

“Really?”

She rolled her eyes and lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“You already forget what happened when you got back from defeating the rabid robo raccoons of doom? You know, when we might have narrowly avoided mentally scarring your sister for life.”

His grin took on a decidedly proud gleam.

“That was a good celebration.” He waggled his brows while squeezing her ass again.

She laughed, suddenly relieved that he was so excited. Happy that he seemed as enthusiastic as she did.

He slid his hands up to her back as his breathing slowed. 

“You’re good with this right?”

Darcy ran a hand up the back of his head, trailing her fingers through his hair and smiling.

“I am if you are.”

If she thought he was beaming before, she was wrong. Because it looked like Johnny’s face would split when he bent to pick her up around the middle and began walking with her to the bedroom.

“Then this definitely calls for a new baby-making celebration!”


	30. Media Relations (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Steve struggles with meet and greets. 
> 
>  
> 
> From the prompt: Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?

“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me? Finally.”

“I’m working here Darcy,” Steve forced through his teeth, losing any trace of the minute lip curvature she had definitely spotted before. He was able to take up his usual chest forward, shoulders back, staring at the distant horizon pose in time before the flash.

She rolled her eyes as she smiled at the next kid that came up to take his picture with THE Captain America.

“Come on, dude. You’re the paragon of justice and freedom, not grumpiness and an allergy to displaying some pearly whites.”

And admittedly, it was kind of cute when little boys copied the signature Cap pose, a miniature fighter of all things American. 

But she thought the world really needed more proof that there was a Steve Rogers behind that mask. Because that guy was pretty great. If she did say so herself.

A little girl came up next, slowly letting go of her mother’s hand to bashfully shuffle over to Steve’s legs. She tucked her chin, looking up through her lashes until he squatted down to her level.

“And what’s your name, little lady?”

She giggled, slightly twisting from side to side where she stood.

“Madison.”

“Is Cap here your favorite Avenger, Madison?” Darcy called from the sideline.

The little girl gave her a grin as she shook her head.

“No. It’s Black Widow.”

Steve tilted his head, a curious grin beginning to form, making Darcy very happy.

“Why is she your favorite?”

“Because she’s the strongest. And prettiest.”

He nodded along with her reasoning.

“And it’s funny when the TV plays that video of her telling Iron Man to shut up.”

A quick surprised lift of his eyebrows showed he hadn’t been expecting that response before he threw his head back and laughed.

The flash went off.

After a moment of giggles between the two, Steve pulled the little girl in for a hug.

The next day an article made the rounds with the two photos and the headline “Captain America’s Kindergarten Sweetheart”.

Darcy printed it and put it on her fridge.


	31. Stolen Moments (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Bucky didn't know that parenthood would be their biggest challenge yet.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

With a sigh, Darcy plopped on the ground, tipping her head back against the wall.

“Don’t remind me.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned against the door as he watched her from across the secure room they’d been locked in. Threats, bartering, and bribing hadn’t gotten them out, which actually had him more surprised than her blase reaction.

“You know, you used to like when things like this happened.”

Her half laugh came out as more of a wheezy grunt.

“Funny how a few years of marriage and a couple kids will change that.”

Shaking his head, he walked over to sit next to her on the floor. 

“We could try to have a little of our old fun. Make the perpetrator wish they’d never came up with this plan in the first place.”

“No good. I’d just start thinking about what all I need to get done.”

With a smirk, he set his hand on her knee, slowly trailing it up her thigh.

“Really? I couldn’t distract you at all.”

The only physical reaction he got was her rolling her head to side to give him an unimpressed raise of her brow.

“Let’s see, can you distract me from the fact that Becca’s parent-teacher conference is tomorrow, so we have to get the science dioramas done tonight? That Sammy accidentally smashed Jupiter and lost Uranus, so we have to go back to the store for yet more overpriced styrofoam balls? That I still need to finish that paperwork to let Jane publish with my name on her works? And that you’ve been so busy with training that this is the first time we’ve had a moment alone in the last week, but I feel gross and can’t even remember if I took a shower in the last two days? Not to mention that I’m too tired to even enjoy anything we would do to mentally scar your child for locking us in here.”

He brought his hand back to her knee and gave it a teasing squeeze.

“My child? So I get all the credit now, huh?”

She nodded, turning her head to stare at the ceiling again.

“Yes. I don’t know which one is to blame for this, but they both get it all from you.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured and paused to chuckle. “I seem to remember a certain scientist wrangler locking one emotionally constipated super soldier and his former undercover neighbor in a training gym a few years ago. And look where we are now?”

She only groaned and closed her eyes.

“Shit. That reminds me, I still need to get them a wedding present.”

He rolled his eyes, lucky that she didn’t see it.

“You’ve got weeks, you’re good.”

No response.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”

Nothing.

“Darce.”

He shifted his hand, starting to press on the nerve that guaranteed a reaction.

Sure enough, she jumped, smacked at his hand, and glared.

“You know I _hate_ when you do that!” She jabbed a pointy finger into his ribs, sharp enough to make him hold back a wince. “Try that again and I’ll leave a bruise that will still show up next week.”

His hands went up in surrender and he made sure not to laugh at her angry face. She was cute when mad, but he’d learned long ago that it just made it worse when he said so.

After a few more minutes of stony silence she let out a sigh, and he knew the major wrath was passed.

Time for Plan B. Not that there had really been a Plan A, but he’d get a much better response from her with another tactic.

“Tell you what.” 

He lifted his hand to rub the back of her neck, smiling when she let out that little moan and dropped her head forward.

“I’ll put off those debrief reports until tomorrow, because by then I’ll still get them done before Clint, and I’ll take the kids to get whatever they need for Science!, and probably feed them an unhealthy, greasy dinner. I know Jane’s stuff can wait another day, so you take a shower, internet shop for Steve and Sharon’s present because I know you are the one with _opinions_ on proper gifts, and then we’ll all try to haphazardly glue together a couple solar systems before bed.”

She snorted, chin still tucked all the way into her chest. 

“Sounds amazing. Small catch: we don’t know how long we’re going to be in here.”

When his chuckle came out a bit more maliciously than expected, she turned to squint at him, making sure not to shift enough that he’d stop massaging her neck.

He shrugged.

“I didn’t trust the whispers and giggles I heard when I got home, so I changed the wifi password. I give ‘em another ten minute tops before we’re out of here.”

With a cackle, she slumped against him, holding her stomach and laughing for a solid minute before dropping her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

“Have I told you that I love you lately?”

He hummed, and rested his cheek on her hair.

“Never enough for my liking.”


	32. A Working Romance (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would happen if Darcy just made her meeting with Bucky the most awkward thing ever? Awesomeness. That's what.

“So, you know, it’s nice that they gave you such a buff arm and all.”

Jane gasped.

“Darcy, you can’t just say something like that!”

She raised her hands defense.

“What? I’m not saying I’m happy they made him use the arm for villainy and all that. I’m just saying it’s nice that they chose to give him one with such symmetry and aesthetics.” She paused as she turned to the man in question. “Although, what happens if you stop working out? Will your real arm get all small and puny and look completely ridiculous next to your jacked metal arm? Or does the brooding keep you naturally fit?”

Her boss groaned, covering her face with both hands. 

But that just meant she didn’t get to see the corner of Bucky’s mouth ticking up, or how his eyes had gone kind of squinty. And not in the “I’m calculating the quickest method to kill you,” way, but more in the “I shouldn’t be amused but I kind of am” way.

So she proceeded, linking one of her arms with his real one, making sure to give his bicep a squeeze, for research and all. 

“Because there’s only so much hero angst this tower can take. So you’re gonna have to keep up with the work outs.“ 

She could still hear Jane’s groans as she kept talking, leading Bucky from the room.

“Your face is pretty and all, but I’m all about symmetry.”

The chuckle he let out, and the fact that he was most certainly flexing under hand, let her know she was onto something. 

Something good.


	33. I Saw the Sign (Clint/Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has learned that there's certain people he can never take for granted.

The elevator doors opened and Clint pushed himself off the wall with a grunt. But when Natasha stayed in her corner he turned to her, putting his hand on the door sensor. It’d taken him a couple times to learn that Stark had programmed the elevators to only hold the doors for himself. But he’d learned. And he didn’t want it to smash him in the face mid-sentence again.

“You coming?”

She let out quiet, judgmental hum as her eyes looked over his gear pants and undershirt.

“Unlike some people, I would rather wash off the filth of the hellhole we were just in before I go into public spaces.”

He lifted his shoulders dismissively.

“But there’s coffee this way.”

She huffed quietly, not really surprised.

“Don’t you have any?”

“Nah, accidentally dumped the bag of grounds right before we left.”

Her nostrils flared slightly in amusement.

“Yes, well, at least half of the coffee you’re going to drink will wind up _on_ you, so it probably is best you hold off on that shower.”

If he hadn’t been so tired, he might have actually tried to defend himself. 

As it was he just let the elevator door go with a halfhearted shrug and began making his way to the common kitchen. He stretched as he went, trying to work out the kinks from the brief cat nap he’d gotten on the flight back. The mission at least had been a success. A shitty six weeks, but a success.

Halfway down the hallway he paused.

Considering it was eight o’clock on a Friday and he knew the team hadn’t had any missions earlier, it was odd that he heard a mixture of voices as coming from the dining room. Unless there was movie night, most of the residents actually tried to have some sort of social life that didn’t involve each other on Fridays. 

Curious, he continued on, focusing on the sounds, and making out Darcy’s voice as he got closer.

“No, Tony. You have to put the indirect object after the subject, and then the direct object and action.”

A groan of frustration followed her correction.

“Hey, Darce, is this right?”

Clint came around the corner just in time to catch Sam making a jumble of signs and partial signs that were all out of order and not very clear, even to him.

Not until he got to the last one at least.

“Wilson, you better as hell be trying to say you’re hungry and not propositioning my girlfriend.”

Most of the group looked up, Darcy whirled with a smile on her face, and Sam just looked confused.

“What?”

Steve chuckled and punched his friend in the shoulder.

“Remember, you only do the sign for hungry once. Otherwise you’re saying you’re hungry for something else.”

“Hey! You’re home.” Darcy’s comment came out quiet but excited.

Clint took in the group, getting some of the important details, but not all.

“So, uh, what’s up guys?”

And then Darcy, strangely, shifted; avoiding eye contact, with a slight blush starting on her cheeks.

Pepper caught the action and smiled at him.

“We’re learning to sign.”

Well that made sense…

“Okay, I’d kind of figured that out, but why?”

“It was Lewis’ idea,” Tony said distractedly as he practiced a sign in front of him. It looked like he was trying to say “piss off” but he ended on the wrong gesture.

Darcy had started shifting papers in front of her, so Clint turned to Sam, who shrugged.

“I just wanted to know whether you and Tasha were actually making fun of me or not. I think she got tired of my whining.”

Steve turned his snort into a throat clearing before giving his two cents.

“I did think it would be better to have a clearer way for you to tell me which things I should go under and then which ones over. I don’t need another arrow in my hide because your hearing aids got fried.”

“You’re just worried that the buns of patriotism could be irrevocably damaged.”

“Screw you, Stark.”

“No thanks, I got Pepper for that.”

There was a smacking sound followed by Tony’s exclamation of pain, but Clint wasn’t paying attention.

Instead he took in the various books and worksheets explaining the basics of sign language spread around the table in front of his team members and friends. And there was Darcy. Standing in the middle of it all trying to teach them.

“You did all this for me?”

She faced him again, tilting her head noncommittally as she bit her lip to hold back a smile.

“I figured you’d appreciate it if the team could actually understand when you were insulting them.”

He laughed, like she wanted him to, but he saw the way she watched him, and knew there was more.

There was always more with Darcy.

And he loved that.

Not quite ready to express what he was feeling in front of his team members, verbally or not, he took three quick strides to grab his girlfriend by the waist, pulling her until he could muffle the sound of her surprise with his lips.

It wasn’t gentle by any means, but she got the message, grabbing at his shoulders as her lips parted under his.

“Dude, get a room!”

A wadded paper hit Clint in the back of his head and without breaking the kiss he threw a rude gesture at whoever threw it.

“Yeah, yeah. I already knew what that one meant,” Sam chided.

He was perfectly content to continue ignoring them, but Darcy pulled back with her lips curved in half a smile, and her nose crinkled up.

“You know you kind of stink, right?”

Clint let out a bark of laughter, hugging her closer despite her fake attempts to get away.

“Eww.”

He chuckled, lowering his voice when he next spoke.

“You could always help me with that, you know.”

“Again, get a room!”

This time Darcy flipped Tony off, not bothering to look at him while she did so. She focused on Clint instead, licking her lips as she brought her hands to rest on his chest.

“How about this,” she murmured, a promising tone edging its way into her voice. “You go hit the shower while I fix you some disgustingly strong coffee.”

He couldn’t stop the goofy grin stretching its way across his face.

Darcy leaned closer to whisper slowly, letting him read her lips more than hear what she was saying.

“And this way you’ll smell better, _and_ be able to stay awake for what I have planned to welcome you home.”

“Mmm.” He bumped his nose against hers. “Works for me.”

“Good. I wasn’t giving you a choice.”

She pulled back and turned to give him a firm slap on the ass.

“Get going!”

With a laugh he walked backwards towards the door, giving a proud grin and wave to the knowing looks everyone else was sending him.

But he paused in the doorway, watching as Darcy pulled out his favorite mug while she danced around the kitchen.

He was one lucky S.O.B.


	34. A Green Complexion (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky knows how to handle Darcy better than she knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt "Are you jealous?"

“No way, Storm. You, for the billionth time, are wrong!”

He scoffed and folded his arms in response.

“Fine, I’ll show you!”

But as Darcy stood, she suddenly found herself spun from behind and folded over someone’s shoulder as they lifted her and made their way to the door. Looking down, all she could see was their butt. However, she knew that butt. Knew it well.

“Bucky, what the hell? I was about to lay the verbal smack down on Johnny and he would not have recovered from the burn I had ready!”

He grunted in amusement and kept walking.

So she pinched his butt. Hard. And waited.

He just chuckled as he shrugged, which was impressive as her weight on his shoulder didn’t seem to make the slightest difference.

“You might as well pinch the other one. I know how asymmetry bugs you.”

She ignored him for a second, bobbing along as he walked. 

But he was right. 

Dammit. 

“Fine,” she sighed and pinched the other cheek. Just as hard.

He patted her ass in response and kept walking, so she made sure to put her pointy elbows into the small of his back as she rested her chin in her hands.

“So why are you going all neanderthal when I’m in the throes of a winning argument?”

“You said I needed to make sure you got home at a decent hour. I’m just doing my job.”

They’d made it to their apartment by this point, but he didn’t set her down as he opened the door and walked in.

“What part of me winning an argument against Storm don’t you understand?”

“You spent all day with the guy and his team. And you’ll be with them tomorrow. Something tells me you’ll still have time to make your point.”

He unceremoniously dropped her onto the bed and she narrowed her eyes as she bounced.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

He toed off his shoes and lay down next to her. Well, more half on her as he pulled her close and buried his nose in her neck.

“Nope.”

He let out a long sigh and she laughed.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

She snorted as he copied her usual speaking patterns, but didn’t say anything else as she settled against him.

Jealous or not, Bucky cuddles were the best cuddles.


	35. When a Plan Comes Together (Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha isn't the only matchmaker in the tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

******B** ucky didn’t say anything as Darcy finally wound up her argument. One he hadn’t listened to past the goal summary. He didn’t need to be convinced, as he already knew this was going to be interesting, and more likely so if he helped. 

“And that’s where you come in. You just need to send him a text in two hours getting him up on the roof. You’re in, right?”

He snorted, crossing his arms with a smirk. 

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” 

“Hey,” she whined as her eyes narrowed. “This is genius.”

He held back another snort, mostly because her expression warned him a jab to his ribs was imminent if he wasn’t careful. And she had rather sharp, pointy fingers.

That didn’t stop him from teasing, though.

“Uh huh. And what makes you think that your plan will work if almost two years of Natasha pestering him didn’t?”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder grandly.

“That’s just because he lacked the proper setting. Also, she gave him a choice. I’m not going to.”

“Exactly, doomed to fail, spectacularly.”

Her grunt was his second warning that a jab was due. And Darcy never gave a third warning.

“If it’s so doomed to fail, why are you in?”

He smiled, unfolding his arms and stepping closer.

“I also said _spectacular_. I would gladly pay to see what happens when he figures out what you’ve been cooking up in that beautiful, evil brain of yours.”

She hummed, consideringly.

“Oh, you will pay.” She paused, setting her hands on her hips. “How about you put some money down now? 20 bucks says I’m right and one night stuck up on the rooftop gets Stevie to pull his head out of his ass when it comes to him and Sharon.”

He watched her silently for a moment, taking in her confident chin jut and posture. 

After a couple seconds, he finally held out his hand.

“Deal.”

Darcy cackled, shaking his hand.

But she couldn’t rub her hands together as she’d planned because Bucky held onto hers, slowly pulling her against his chest.

“I would like to propose an alteration to your plan, though,” he murmured.

She tilted her head back, already knowing where he was going with that comment. But she could play along.

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” He let go of her hand to trail his hand up her arm, across her shoulder, settling it around her neck with his fingers buried in her hair.

“Mmm.”  She breathed deeply, batting her eyelashes up at him. “And what would that be? I thought you were willing to go along with it.”

He leaned in, lightly skimming his nose along her cheekbone, then his lips along her ear.

“I am. I’m merely suggesting a slight delay in your timeline, seeing as how you have the afternoon free, I haven’t been called out, and it just seems like a damn good idea.”

She practically purred when his other hand began tracing circles on her back, slowly drifting lower.

“You know, I think I can definitely second your proposal.”

 **S** teve looked down at his phone perplexed. He was just about to call Bucky, asking where the hell he was, when the roof access door opened. 

But it wasn’t his friend that came out.

When Sharon caught sight of him, she laughed.

“Looks like we’ve officially been set up, Rogers.”

He chuckled, tucking his phone back in his pocket.

“That it does.” He gestured with his head toward the blanket fort that had been set up on the other side of the roof. “How do you want to play this?”

She came within a couple of feet and smiled up at him, head tilted.

“Oh, I don’t know. Darcy was actually creative about this one. And I think she’s probably got a bet going with at least half the team.”

His brow raised as he fought back a smile.

“And we’re supporting that?”

She snorted with a shrug.

“Hey, better than when Tony tried to play wingman and hook me up with Wilson.”

“Hey, he’s a good guy.”

She only pursed her lips in response, and he chuckled.

Then he paused and looked around for any of the cameras. 

Someone had them all facing opposite buildings. He was willing to bet Darcy had sweet-talked Jarvis into that. But it didn’t matter if he was, because he was just grateful for it as he slid his hands around Sharon’s waist to rest them low on her back.

“Well, we have been talking about letting the team know about us. And Darcy did at least get the pairing right.”

“That she did,” she breathed, her sentence ending on what others might consider an uncharacteristic giggle.

But Steve knew better.

“We gonna reward her efforts?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck with a grin.

“You know, I think we probably should.”

                                

 **T** he next morning, Sharon most definitely had more than one hickey trailing down her neck and under her collar. And Steve’s hair was going to require more than a quick run-through with his fingers to get rid of some spectacular sex-induced volume.

Bucky merely sighed as he handed the first of several bills to make it into Darcy’s hands that day.

She held back an evil chuckle, not telling anyone that she’d run into the pair a couple weeks earlier, both with a flush and swollen lips that definitely had not come from the sparring they’d claimed they’d been up to in that particular gym. There hadn’t been any other signs, but Darcy wasn’t going to pass up her prime knowledge because everyone else hadn’t seen it.

What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt ‘em. 

Besides, if she wasn’t wrong (and she was never wrong when it came to these things), she had a wedding present to start saving up for.

Because just what do you buy for a bad-ass spy and her man of Freedom and Justice?

A toaster?


	36. Self Preservation is NOT for the Weak (Darcy & Tony)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy knows better than to get involved in Tony's schemes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” 

“Really?”

The excitement in his voice almost made her groan.

“NO! It’s called sarcasm, Tony.”

“This’ll be priceless! Give me one good reason why you refuse to participate.”

With a sigh, Darcy turned from her computer to count on her fingers.

“One- Sam just barely forgave me for Thor breaking his favorite pair of goggles last month. And that was only because I promised him I wouldn’t get involved in another prank war that would wind up affecting him, his gear, or our apartment.” 

Tony opened his mouth, but she held up another finger before he interject.

“You know Clint will take it there if he found out I was involved. Two- Me joining your efforts would technically pit the labs against the other side, and Jane threatened to banish me from tumblr in the lab for a week if anything like the puce-goo fiasco ever happened again.”

He snickered, no doubt feeling proud of the horror that day had been, but Darcy was nowhere near laughing about it. That stuff was sticky. And had taken forever to get out from under her nails after she’d had to wash her hair ten times in a row. Her split ends were still recovering.

“Three-Your idea is childish, bound to fail, and way below my level. I refuse to lower my standards for this.”

His eyes narrowed and he slowly sauntered closer.

“Them’s fighting words, Lewis.”

She rolled her eyes as she turned back to the computer.

“It’s the truth, Stark. You only wish you had my pranking game.”

“Prove it.”

She ignored him.

“I repeat, prove it. Show me why my idea is so stupid.”

“You’ll just try and steal one of my ideas, which would still get me in trouble. So, how about no.”

“What if I finally got you and Birdbrain: the Sequel’s apartment hooked up for surround sound again?”

With a purposeful squeak of her chair, she slowly spun back to face him.

“I’m listening.”

“The offense that you blew your speakers on Justin Bieber aside, I’ll repair the damage if you show me some of the ideas you have on getting Barton back for this morning’s hijacking.”

She leaned back and raised a brow skeptically.

“And what am I supposed to tell people? You’ve been denying my requests for repairs based on ‘atrocities to the home-space environment.’ If you suddenly do something nice for me and something bad happens to Clint immediately after he got away with one of your suits, there’s gonna be talk.”

He brought his hands to his chest in an exaggeratedly disgruntled gesture.

“What, you don’t think people will believe in my generosity and bleeding heart?”

Her scoff turned into more of a snort.

“I’m offended, Lewis. Really.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept watching him.

“Fine. Tell them you blackmailed me or something. They’re bound to believe that.”

This time a full snort came out.

“No doubt. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you can’t just prank Clint with my insider knowledge immediately after one of your suits winds up purple and more purple. He’d put it together.”

Tony sighed.

“You have much higher opinions of his observation skills.”

He hurried to finish his argument when she rolled her eyes and began turning back to her computer.

“ _But_ , I’ll wait at least a week to get him back. That work for you?”

Darcy’s head tipped to the side as she silently weighed her options. On the one hand it could get back to her and that’d be messy. On the other, she was always in trouble and this way she could get back to Friday-night pantsless (mandatory) and shirtless (optional) dance parties with Sam. 

Decisions, decisions.

After a moment she gave a brief nod, and walked over to a nearby metal bookcase that held hundreds of notebooks full of transcribed notes. She went to the third shelf, grabbed the tenth notebook from the left, and brought it back over to her desk.

Tony watched her with interest, but let out a huff when she merely began turning through pages. 

“I thought we had a deal.”

“We do,” she murmured as she turned another page. “I’m consulting my notes.”

“Notes? What kind of notes?”

She hummed.

“Oh, just little tidbits that I figured would come in handy one day.”

He stood over her shoulder. 

“What the hell even is this? TV equals SM divided by PP?”

Darcy glanced at where he pointed.

“Clint likes Sailor Moon over the Power Puff girls.”

“And this matters, why?”

She gave him a calculating smirk over her shoulder.

“You’d be surprised what comes in handy around this tower.”

What she didn’t tell him was that Clint was actually terrified by any and all images of Bubbles, which was amazing for when she planned to redo all of his sheets and bedding in Power Puff theme. However, she was saving that one for later, so she continued to peruse her notes while Tony waited impatiently next to her.

“So you’ve been keeping tabs on Birdbrain: the Original and keeping them hidden in Foster’s work notes?”

Before she could answer, he sprinted over to the bookcase, pulling out the notebook that was next to where she’d pulled the other. 

But after a quick glance, he cursed, tossed it aside and pulled out another one, only to do the same.

“Dammit, why are all of these actual math?!”

She paused to watch the mayhem disapprovingly.

“Tony, if you make a mess of Jane’s notes, I won’t actually help you and I’ll tell her what you did.”

He whirled to pout at her.

“But-”

“Besides, you couldn’t actually think I’d be dumb enough to put all of my notes in one place when I’ve gone through the hassle of putting these in hard copy and in shorthand to keep prying eyes out.”

He let out a sigh, dropping the last notebook he’d held onto the stack on the floor, coming back over to watch over her shoulder.

“I’m surprised at your dedication.”

She shrugged, turning another page.

“Some have super powers, some have super training, some have super-ridiculous amounts of money. I, however, am the queen of notes, and all should bow before my genius.”

“Yeah, yeah, worshiping you and what not. But are you actually going to give me anything to go off of other than Clint’s opinion on kid’s television?”

“Be patient, oh impatient one. I have to find something good.”

He let out another sigh and settled next to her, tapping his feet in an attempt to bug her. 

After a couple minutes he suddenly stopped.

“Wait, does that mean you have a notebook on me?”

Darcy stopped halfway through turning a page to smile maliciously at him, enjoying it immensely when he twitched.

“Do you really want to find out?”


	37. Best Laid Plans (Darcy/Scott Lang)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Scott talks himself out of a good thing

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

Scott held up a hand as his brows furrowed.

“Hold up. What do you mean this is my stupidest plan?”

Darcy rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Forget about that, let’s get planning!”

She grabbed his elbow to pull him towards the living room, but he didn’t budge, watching her with an exaggerated scowl.

“Stupidest?”

“And I said I was in. You’re missing the point.”

He shook his head.

“No, I think I got the point. You _really_ think this is the stupidest?”

She let out a groan.

“Please don’t make this another robbery vs. burglary argument.”

He ignored her response, already beginning to pace.

“What about that time I thought it would be funny to shrink the Hulk in training and broke the whole 50th floor?”

“Oh boy,” Darcy muttered to herself. She should have thought her response through earlier. But it was too late now.

“Or the time I helped Luis trick Hank into that speed dating night and he wound up meeting my Aunt Denise.”

“Scott-”

Much too late.

“Or that time I signed Cap up for lamaze class and all those weird morph pictures of him and Natasha started making the rounds through the tower.”

With a sigh, Darcy just walked away. She knew he would follow her, still trying to make his point, and in doing so, argue himself out of his plan.

Which was a shame.

She’d actually been up for shrinking every piece of furniture in Sam’s room. 


	38. The Finest of Literature (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilty pleasures can lead to very fun times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt "Looks like we'll be in here for a while"

“Ugh! Who even says that?”

Remy chuckled from the other end of the couch and Darcy gestured at the TV with the remote she still held.

“I’m serious! How often do people get locked into a closet or what have you and someone turns to the other and says ‘Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while’? That just doesn’t happen!”

“I’m sure that’s something that would happen in one of Rogue’s romance novels.”

She snorted and raised a brow at him.

“That’s not all you’ll find there.”

Remy let out another chuckle but shifted to face her more directly.

“Oh? And just what else have you been finding in romance novels, cher?”

“You know.” Darcy pursed her lips, trying to hold back a smile. “Stuff.”

He leaned forward and came closer, half crawling over the couch cushions; all catlike grace and glowing eyes. 

“Mmhmm.” He gently plucked the remote from her hand, tossing it onto the coffee table. “Care to tell more about this _stuff_?”

She gave up any attempt to hide the smirk that slowly spread across her face as she brought her hands up to rest on his shoulders.

“How about I show you?”


	39. So What Am I So Afraid Of? (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy makes an admission that has had him worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Darcy startled, eyes darting to Remy’s face.

“Uh. I’m sorry?”

He knew she’d heard him, so he didn’t repeat himself. Instead, he sighed, forcibly running his hands through his hair as he avoided her gaze.

“So…” she trailed off as she shifted from foot to foot, unsure what to do. His declaration hadn’t been so much a surprise as the qualifier. “Are you terrified about the love bit or me the bit?”

He chuckled somewhat bitterly, but he finally looked at her. 

“Both.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped forward to hug him, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around his waist. An easy task to accomplish as he had his arms raised to grip his hair.

“Am I really that scary?”

He let his hands drop to his sides as he let out his breath in a whoosh of air.

“Absolutely.”

Darcy leaned back to glance at his face.

“I doubt that,” she paused as she hugged him more firmly. “But I’m willing to hear your opinion on the matter.”

Eventually, after another few silent seconds, he lifted his hands to lightly run them up her neck, threading his fingers through her air as he watched her intently.

“You have power over me, petite. No one’s had that kind of power in a long time.”

Her lips curved upwards as she stared right back.

“Does it help if I say the feeling is mutual?”

He returned her smile.

“That right?”

“Absolutely.” She gave a short nod and then giggled. “For once, I’m just better at keeping my cool.”

Remy finally let out a calm chuckle and rested his forehead against hers.

They stood there for a long while, content in the easy, reassured silence that settled over them.


	40. Babysitting is for Bubs (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust your boyfriend to bring home babies that are just as cantankerous when they're not de-aged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt about accidental baby acquisition.

“Holy shit, what is that?”

“I thought that should be obvious, cher. It’s a baby.”

Darcy closed her eyes, holding tightly to the door she’d opened to find Remy on her doorstep, fearing where this was going.

“I know that. But why are you unexpectedly showing up at my door in the middle of the afternoon holding one?”

He grinned, stepping closer, holding the bundle out to her.

“Nuh uh, no way.” She took a giant step back, holding her fingers up in a makeshift cross. “Touching it assumes responsibility and I refuse to do so not knowing where it came from or what it might actually be, because with the people we know and associate with, that thing is probably not actually human.”

Remy chuckled, and stepped past her into the apartment.

“Well, you wouldn’t be far off with that last bit.”

When he stopped moving, the baby began to fuss, so he began to bounce as he rocked back and forth, humming lowly.

She kept her distance, eyes narrowing as she gently closed the door.

“Not human? What is that thing then?”

He looked up, a gleam of amusement lighting his eyes.

“Logan.”

She choked as she gasped, and tried to keep her coughing quiet to avoid upsetting the baby. The Logan baby. Shit.

“Say what?”

He paused in his humming as he shrugged.

“It’s a long, long story. The important part is that until things are fixed, I seem to be stuck with him since I’m one of the few individuals from our teams that doesn’t have to rush off to save the world today and who’s actually held a baby or doesn’t terrify them on sight.”

Darcy snorted, not at all surprised at that. 

“Wait. You were here hanging out with my team and you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to surprise you.”

“So you came with a baby Wolverine? Surprise!”

She held her hands up in an exaggerated jazz-hands motion and Remy rolled his eyes.

“The infant part wasn’t planned, trust me.”

A thought struck her and she hesitantly curled her hands into nervous fists.

“Please…just tell me doesn’t have mini claws and is going to dice things up because he has a dirty diaper.”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter.

“Non. So far the only thing that has remained the same is his cantankerous attitude.”

She raised her brows in non-surprise as she stepped forward to get a closer look, hands behind her back so there was no chance the baby might wind up with them.

Remy had gone back to his rocking and humming, and Darcy couldn’t hold back a smile as a surprisingly bald baby!Logan snuffled and grunted, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly and emphatically.

After another couple minutes of silly smiling, a video for future reference and teasing purposes, and lots of humming and rocking, Remy held one peacefully sleeping child in his arms as he slowly sank into the couch with a sigh.

“He’s been fighting this nap for hours.”

She chuckled as she walked over and settled next to him on the couch, making sure not to cause too much jostling. 

“That can’t surprise you.”

He let out a hum of agreement, but shifted into another lullaby, no doubt out of habit from trying to get a mini angry mutant to sleep.

And while Darcy was not about to hold itty bitty Logan and accept responsibility, she was not above snuggling with Remy as he continued to croon softly to him.


	41. Begrudging Bed Partners (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being force to share a bed with a ridiculously attractive man isn't the worst thing to happen to Darcy. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt about forced bed sharing. I'm proud of myself for figuring out this one.

“Your feet are on my side again.”

Darcy suddenly felt breath shifting the hair on the back of her neck, apparently that wasn’t the only part of Remy on her side.

“That they are, mon amour. That they are.”

She angled her head to see his pleased face just a few inches away. 

“Remy.”

“Yes?”

She let out a long sigh, rolling onto her back and shifting a bit away from his body that had been emanating warmth very distractingly since she’d wound up next to him.

“We agreed we were going to be adult about this.”

He chuckled, his breath now fanning over her face. She could smell the toothpaste he’d used and forced herself to count to ten. Then twenty.

“I was thinking we could be _very_ adult about this.”

“Ugh. You’re on my side of the bed Remy. _My_ side.”

He let out another infuriating chuckle.

“Yes, and you’ve done nothing about it.”

Her eyes flew to his face. The pleased smile was still there but it held a question as well.

“You have said I’m on your side. You have complained about my presence.” He paused. “But you haven’t asked me to stop.”

She stared at him silently.

“Ask me to stop, cher. _If_ that’s what you want.”

Darcy continued to stare for a moment, before flopping over, turning her back to him with a loud groan.

And there was that damn chuckle again.

“Thought so.”  The bed creaked as he shifted back to his side and settled. “‘Night, Darcy.”

She let out a harrumph, pulling a pillow closer to her chest and hugging it tight, ignoring something that certainly felt like disappointment.


	42. Practicality and Escaping (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucky for Remy, Darcy just happens to have a thing for guys who help her escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A group of prompts I decided to combine as a challenge. “Please, don’t leave.” “So, I found this waterfall…” "You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 29. “I thought you were dead.” 33. “Please don’t do this.” “I almost lost you.”

Ignoring the dirty ground, Darcy sank to her knees in front of the prostrate mutant that accompanied her in the cell. Well, she was technically accompanying him since he’d been lying there in the corner when she was unceremoniously tossed in by the half-pint villains she’d stumbled upon. But Remy hadn’t moved or stirred in the ten minutes that she’d been there. She just hoped he was another of those weird mutant/superhero individuals that seemed immune to brain damage, because that much unconsciousness did not seem like a good thing.

With a sigh, she slowly held out a hand to poke him in the ribs.

“Hey, Loverboy. Now would be a good time to wake up. I might even let you kiss me if you do.” 

She gave him another poke, hoping that promising a good end to their month-long banter fest and flirtation might rouse him. 

Nothing.

“Please don’t do this.”

Another poke.

“I need you to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 

Another poke, this one a little firmer and joined with a growl of frustration. 

“Okay, so I’m not any sort of damsel in distress and Natasha has been training me, so I probably totally could do this on my own, but I don’t feel like dragging your heavy-ass body out of here.”

She gave him another poke for good measure.

This time her jab elicited a sudden, low groan that had her falling back on her butt in surprise.

He half smiled as he sat up, but most of his face twisted into a grimace, so she didn’t think her gracefulness would be a sticking point right then.

“Didn’t scare you, did I?” he panted out.

Rolling her eyes at his effort to still charm her, she leaned forward to gently rest a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay there? Because, I’m not gonna say I thought you were dead, but you were kind of comatose for a while.”

His grimace had gone full blown, and she found herself very grateful he turned the other way when he suddenly pivoted to vomit all over the floor.

“So….not so good then.”

He let out a chuckle, no doubt now feeling somewhat better, but then the smell wafted and she found herself starting to gag. She lost all nursing/compassionate instincts and scrambled to the other side of the cell pushing her face against the bars to breath the outside air. It was stale and dank, but far better than her other options.

“Ugh. This space is way too small for that.”

“I thank you for the concern,” he muttered, his voice sounding steadier.

“Hey, I’m not the one who just upchucked in a small, confined space that we’ll be stuck in for who knows how much longer.”

She pulled the neck of her hoodie up to cover her nose as she turned to face him.

With another grunt, Remy pushed himself up to standing, holding onto the wall to keep from swaying.

“Okay, you’re really not looking so hot.”

He shot her an brow waggle as he straightened, only mildly wobbling as he began dusting off his coat.

“You finally admitting I usually do look _hot_ , cher?”

She almost stuck her tong out at him, but as the hoodie still covered half her face and she’d wind up with a mouthful of cotton, she settled for a glare.

“How about you stop trying to be cute and help me get us out of here.”

“Of course, anything for _you_.” 

He began to pat down his pockets and then shot her a hopeful look. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could throw now would you? I am mighty tired of stealing my own buttons.” 

At her questioning look, his hands gestured to his coat and he gave her a shrug.

With a snort, Darcy began digging through her own pockets, finding the nickel she’d tucked in that tiny pocket in her jeans that was good for nothing else.

“Uh, will this do?” she asked, holding it towards him.

“Bon, that’s perfect.” He came forward and took the coin for her hand, shooting her a wink as his fingers purposely slid along hers. But before he began to charge the small piece of metal, he paused. “Just how did you find yourself in here anyway?”

She hoped her half-hidden face actually would hide most of her embarrassment.

“I was hiking and decided to go off the beaten path.” She hesitated, but he waited for the rest of her answer. “So, I found this waterfall…and may have decided to explore and found myself in some sketchy-as-all-get-out hidden bunker tunnels.”

Remy chuckled looking back to the nickel in his hand.

“Only you would stumble across the secret lair of villains. Didn’t you walk into a top-secret AIM raid last month?”

She sniffed haughtily, and while it was muffled from her sweater, she figured her point got across.

“I think that we should focus on the now, thank you very much.”

Shaking his head, he pointed to the other corner of the cell, the one that thankfully did not have his recent stomach contents in it.

“Stand over there. Can’t have your pretty face getting damaged by debris, now can we?”

Figuring it would just be faster to do as he said, she tucked herself into the corner he’d suggested, turning to face the wall. 

His steps were quiet as he came to stand in front of her back, placing himself between her and the bars he was aiming for.

“Don’t miss.”

He scoffed.

“I never miss.”

She resisted looking over her shoulder at him.

“That’s Clint’s line.”

Remy hummed as his only response, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as he began to charge the coin. She braced herself, jumping when he let if fly and she heard it crash into the metal, sending chunks of the adjoining concrete and brick flying.

AS the dust settled, he patted her shoulders, lightly flicking off the little bits of things that had landed on her.

“Okay, I’m going go find a way out, you…”

“No,” she interjected. “Please, don’t leave. Don’t just leave and tell me to wait here like some helpless kidnapee. I can handle myself.”

She finished with an emphatic turn, sticking her chin out as she yanked the hem of her hoodie down.

“I’d never dream of it,” he murmured through a smile, holding his hand out to her.

She looked at it then back up to his face and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you kind of need both of those in case you need to throw stuff at people?”

He tilted his head in acquiescence. 

“If you insist.”

“Yep, because I don’t have my taser.”

Remy chuckled as he bent to pick up some various-sized rocks and stuff them into his pockets.

“All right, then.” He stood and made his way to where the bars had been and listened for a moment, glancing back at her when it didn’t seem like anyone was coming their way. “Now’s the time, petite.”

She nodded emphatically, more for herself than him, and stepped out of the corner. Before following him down the hall, though, she picked up a few more chunks of brick and former prison wall and stuffing them in her sweater pocket. You could never have too much ammo.

The next ten minutes were extremely nerve wracking, but surprisingly quick and easy. A couple charged rocks at some doors, a few more charged rocks at some guards, one non-charged but well-aimed rock from Darcy in another guard’s eye before Remy could take him out, and a handful of charged rocks at the main gate later, they were making their way out of the compound and into the forest surrounding it. Seeing as how she knew they were in upstate New York, it was pretty much home free at that point.

And of course that’s when her foot caught a root, sending her hurtling towards the ground that angled rather steeply down a really, really long hill/mild cliff now that she thought about it.

But Remy caught hold of her hoodie pulling her back and wrapping his arms around her to catch her in what was definitely a dramatic dip.

“Hmmm. I almost lost you there.” He watched her, eyes focusing on her mouth. “Maybe I’ll take that kiss you promised me before you get into any more trouble.”

He began to lean forward and her eyes shot to his full lips as they made their way closer. The lips that she quickly held back with one of her hands.

“Nuh uh, bucko. You were supposed to be unconscious when I said that. And don’t think I forgot that whole puking fiasco back there. You are not kissing me until you have brushed your teeth and gargled with mouthwash. Twice.”

His eyes danced and she felt his smile behind her fingers. With a smooth twist and pull, he had them both upright.

“Don’t think I won’t cash in on that rain check, cher.”

He held his hand out to her again.

She looked at it and then at him and placed her hand in his with a grin.


	43. A Good Deed's Reward (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy comes to a decision when Remy does just one too many nice things for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt "You Lied to Me"

Darcy left Rogue’s room with her brows drawn together in confusion. The Avengers & Co. had come to the mansion for a training exercise, so she’d taken the time to finally thank her friend for sending her the English candies she’d been craving for months. But the woman had denied doing so, which only left one option. Both a surprising but still oddly plausible one. Remy. He’d flirted, he’d looked, and he’d teased, but he’d never done more than that before. At least not that she knew of. And that left her with a couple questions she wanted answers to.

She finally found him in the library, leaning back in some antique chair that was never meant to be balanced on two legs as he sat idly shuffling his cards.

“You lied to me.”

He tilted his chin more to the side than up, angling to look her over out of his peripheral vision, his lips ticking up in that tell-tale smirk.

“Now why would I lie to you, petite?” 

She licked her lips to keep from smiling as she shook her head, folding her arms and popping a hip.

“Nope, no distracting me with that Cajun charm. You lied.“

He gathered all the cards together and began shuffling them through the air, one handed, not looking at her.

“And just what are you saying I lied about?”

“You said Rogue sent me those Jelly Babies.”

His smile shifted and he looked pleased with himself.

“Non. I said it _sounded_ like something she would do, being as considerate and kind as she is.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed.

“Uh huh, but I just asked her and she didn’t send those to me.”

He only continued to shuffle the cards, watching as they fluttered through the air.

“Well, how ‘bout that?”

She found herself watching the cards more than him, which was probably his intent, but she wasn’t going to let herself get distracted. 

“You’re the only other one that was there when I was talking about them last month. And I know Jane didn’t get them.”

“Now, how would you know a thing like that?”

“She hates them and refused to give into my addiction.”

He chuckled.

“That _is_ interesting.”

“Remy.”

“Yes, cher?”

He began forming winning pokers hands and sets, still not looking at her as his chair stayed perfectly balanced.

“I know you sent them.”

He hesitated, but his voice still held that calm, placating tone when he spoke.

“If you know that, why are you here calling me a liar?”

“Because I want to know why. I want to know what you want.”

His hands finally stilled, but his eyes stared at his cards, his mouth forming a firm line before he answered.

“If I had wanted something I would have told you that I sent them, non?” After a second he shook off the sober look and let out a short chuckle. Once again he gave her that sly smile that promised just enough of something to make her wonder how much he really was willing to give. “Sides, can’t a man do something nice for a pretty lady once in a while?”

Darcy watched him, not looking at the smirk, but the eyes that were watching her right back, waiting to see what she did.

“Right.” Mind made up, she gave an emphatic nod and turned towards the door, calling back over her shoulder. “That’s why you’re taking me out to dinner tonight.”

The other two legs of his chair came down on the rug with a dull thud.

“That so?” 

She could hear the smile in his voice and paused at the door to look back, catching his hopeful grin.

“Yep. 7 o’clock. Don’t be late, because you are definitely taking me somewhere off the estate where young eyes can’t see how far I’m willing to go on a first date.”

With a bite of her lip and a wink, she left, savoring the gobsmacked expression on his face.


	44. Effective Communication (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy overhears a conversation, but the end result isn't too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt "I'm pregnant."

Remy woke with a start, reaching his hand out and finding the other side of the bed empty but still slightly warm. It was the middle of the night, yet he could hear Darcy’s hushed voice coming from the other room. A moment later she paced back and forth in front of the slightly ajar door that was sending a shaft of light into the bedroom. She was clearly on the phone, and since she hadn’t woken him, it must not have been serious. Satisfied, he lay back, let himself drift, almost falling asleep again. But then one sentence came through clearly.

“Oh, I don’t know, how about ‘I’m pregnant’?”

His heart stuttered and then beat frantically.

Darcy? Pregnant? What?

Her footsteps shuffled past again, and he focused more closely on her voice and the words that might come next.

“Look, it’s late. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

She got off the phone with a couple more mumbled words he couldn’t make out. He heard her frustrated sigh as she turned off the lights and slowly made her way back to the bedroom.

He didn’t say anything as his thoughts whirled, but tried to remain relaxed as she climbed back into bed. 

Darcy just lay there for a minute before letting out another huff and flopping over to cuddle against him.

“Who was that?” he finally asked, voice quiet to avoid startling her.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

He rolled to his side, trying to see her face in the darkness.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” she grunted. “Just my hot mess of a sister having a mild breakdown because she and her boyfriend have terrible communication issues.”

He hesitated for a moment but finally murmured, “So she’s the one that’s pregnant?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, but then sat up quickly. “You didn’t think that I was telling her _I_ was pregnant, did you?”

Remy let out a mildly nervous chuckle.

“Well, I wasn’t really listening in, so only bits and pieces filtered through.”

He felt her frantic arm waves more than saw them.

“Shit. No. Not me. Definitely not me. I’m so sorry!”

With a small head shake, he sat up and grabbed the closest arm, dragging his hand along it to her wrist till he could gently grasp hers, lacing their fingers together.

“It’s okay.”

She squeezed back with a sigh.

“No, really. You need to know that if I were pregnant there is no way I would tell my crazy family before I got a chance to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

In the dim light he could make out her vigorous nod.

“Absolutely.”

With a smile, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he mumbled, lips still pressed to her skin, before pulling her back down and tucking her head against his shoulder.

They lay there quietly for a moment, her fingers twitching on his chest.

“Just for the record, though. How would you have felt about it if I was pregnant?”

No sure what she was looking for, he answered with his own question.

“Why are you asking exactly?”

Her fingers stilled then splayed across his skin as she sat up partly to rest her chin on top of her hand.

“Well, I know we’ve never talked about it, so now seems as good a time as any.” She took a deep breath, and he felt the tension in her body. “Did you want to have kids with me?”

Her words came out in a rush, and he didn’t know if she could see the grin stretching across his face in the dark.

“With you, cher?” He paused to lean forward, easily finding her lips with his own in the dark. After a moment he pulled back unable to stop smiling as she chased the kiss. “Absolutely.”


	45. Okay (Darcy/Remy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy almost loses her friends and her self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt "I almost lost you."

Bullets hit the wall above Darcy’s head, sending chunks of plaster and dust raining down on her. She huddled closer to the ground, thankful that her only concern was having to thoroughly wash her hair in the future. And not being dead. That would have been worse. Way, way worse.

Moving forward seemed the only option because that was away from the bullets, so she hunkered close to the wall and began to inch her way along. The sound of the fighting had moved farther and farther away. Thankfully. She wasn’t going to be much good against armed attackers, so her best bet was to get out and get help. With another couple of steps, she could see the door and began to think she just might make it out of this. 

But something touched her temple, and her thoughts suddenly became fuzzy. Something swirled in her mind, mixing with her thoughts before reshaping them.

* * *

Darcy woke with a start, jerking against the restraints that bound her, and blinking rapidly against the harsh lights. Her ankles and one wrist were held against the bed she lay on. The other wrist was strapped down to her body, holding her arm and her hand immobile. Which, all things considered, seemed like it was possibly a good thing as her hand was in a brace of some sort and she couldn’t move her fingers. But that didn’t take away the fact that she was restrained in what looked like a hospital room. With no windows. And no one else around the room. 

Oh hell. 

This was bad.

And considering who she hung out with on a regular basis, she knew bad.

She groaned trying to remember anything about how she got there. But her mind only came up with the few moments before the attack and then scattered images, sensations, and sounds.

Rogue’s grunt.

Pain in her hand.

Bobby’s confused face.

Cold in her feet.

Someone screaming.

Remy’s face covered in blood.

Pain in her shoulder. 

Blood on her hands.

No. No no no.

Her heart rate began to race and her breath became shallow and labored. She  wished could roll into a ball. Wished she had answers. Wished she could remember what had happened. What she had done.

The door swished open, and a woman in scrubs came to stand hesitantly at the end of her bed, clipboard in hand.

“Ah, I see you are awake. Do you remember who you are, Ms. Lewis?”

Not taking in the full extent of the question, she groaned, mind still full of the memory of blood.

“Unfortunately.”

“Good.” There was a shuffling of paper and scribbling. “Very good.”

It didn’t seem like there was anything she could really say to that, so she lay there trying to think of a way to find out if she was in kidnapping and torture kind of bad, or just regret and guilt kind of bad.

“Your friends are nearby, but we wanted to make sure you were completely stable before we let them in. You have a mild concussion, dislocated shoulder, and broken hand. You were sedated, but that has worn off, so you will only have pain medication in your system. Now we just wanted to check on your mental state.”

Regret and guilt it seemed.

“My mental state? What happened?”

“I don’t have the details, but Professor Xavier would like to see you now that you’re awake. He should be here momentarily and I’m sure will explain everything.”

Without another word, the woman turned and headed for the door. So much for bedside manner.

Darcy wanted to argue, but her brain seemed slow and she couldn’t move, so with another groan she sunk back in the bed.

They thought she was crazy. They were sending the Professor in to make sure she wasn’t crazy. How did she convince him she wasn’t crazy?

“That train of thought alone makes me inclined to believe you are fully yourself again.”

She jerked in surprise at his chuckled comment, once again pulling on the restraints but feeling no pain.

“Professor! What happened? Is everyone okay?”

He came forward to rest a gentle, calming hand on her restrained wrist.

“Everyone is fine.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “It appears your double-date will have just have to be postponed.”

Darcy’s breath caught and held on a sense of hope.

“Everyone’s really okay?”

His smile was reassuring.

“Aside from Remy’s impossible and impatient attitude, everyone is okay.”

“Okay,” she mumbled. She finally let out a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay.”

“Indeed.” 

After a moment she could finally get her thoughts in line.

“What happened?”

“It appears you were set on by a group of anti-mutant rebels. Despite their beliefs, they weren’t above using a telepath who was able to separate you and gain control over your mind.”

“Shit.” She suddenly remembered all the sensations and images in her mind. “Are you sure-”

“As I said, everyone is perfectly all right.” He paused when another image of Remy’s bloody face popped up in her mind, accompanied by a wave of remorse. “You did nothing to harm your friends other than give Rogue an impressive bruise that she is using to get out of chores.”

She wanted to laugh at that. Wanted to enjoy it, but couldn’t with so many unknowns. But her shuddering breath prevented her from asking anything else.

“I think it’ll be better if I give you all the facts.”

At her small nod he continued.

“Once the telepath had taken control, you were able to momentarily stun Rogue with a move I believe you learned from Agent Barton.”

Darcy remembered the pressure point hit, and knew how it hurt, but wasn’t too bad. And judging by her broken hand, she hadn’t done it right, so it couldn’t have been that bad. She’d buy Rogue some ice cream to make up for it.

The professor smiled at her train of thought. She would have taken offense, but really, it wasn’t surprising if they wanted to make sure she wasn’t insane in the membrane.

“You always have a way with words, Ms. Lewis.” He continued before she could do more than send him a flustered look. “Bobby trapped you with ice for a moment. Because he did not want to cause any lasting damage, it was only a small amount and you were able to break free while the rest of the rebels were dealt with. You had made your way up to a catwalk. When Remy caught up with you, your pushing him away caused you to fall over the edge.

She gasped, even though she knew the end of that already (spoiler alert: she was alive), and he pressed his hand to her arm again in a sign of comfort.

“He was able to catch you, but your shoulder was injured in the process.”

“How did you guys get me back, though?”

His smile was quick.

“Rogue helped you achieve cognitive re-calibration as Agent Romanoff would call it.”

That explained the concussion. So maybe she didn’t owe her friend ice cream after all. That was nice.

Having told her the main details, the professor sat and waited for her to process.

Rogue was okay. Bobby was okay. Remy was okay.

They were all okay.

Okay.

Without a word, he began gently undoing the shackle on her wrist, before moving onto those around her ankles.

“I know that Remy is still positioned outside your door, as bad-tempered and worried as he was when you were first brought in.”

She watched him, not quite grasping what he was asking without the explicitly stated words.

“If you feel up to it, I can send him in.”

Oh.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

He patted her ankle one last time and gave her a kind smile before turning and heading to the door.

Remy.

She could see him.

He was okay.

She was okay.

They were okay.

The door swished open again and the sound of Remy’s familiar tread reached her, hesitant but steadily coming closer.

Another flash of his bloodied face filled her mind and she closed her eyes, unable to look.

He paused at the side of the bed, and she unconsciously turned her head into his touch when his hand gently rubbed along her cheek.

“That you, cher?”

His question prompted a small whimper.

“I think so.”

“Bon,” he murmured, leaning forward to slowly rest his forehead against hers. “I almost lost you.”

Her breath shuddered out once more.

“I think you kinda did for a while there.”

He hummed, tucking his hand behind her neck.

“Yes, but you came back.”

When he pulled away, Darcy finally opened her eyes to search his face. She winced at the sight of stitches along his hairline and reached up with her good hand.

“Did I do that?” Her words were quiet as tears began to form a the corners of her eyes.

He caught her hand, kissing the back of it before holding it close to his chest.

“That was from a bullet. You did nothing to hurt me.”

“Really?”

He squeezed her hand firmly and gave a slow nod, holding eye contact.

“Really.”

Her breathing hitched and then stuttered completely as her tears came rushing out in ugly torrents down her face. She gasped in huge sobs, her chest and shoulders shaking.

Remy didn’t try to shush her. He only let go of her hand to carefully climb into her bed, cradling her head to his chest as he murmured to her, stroking his fingers against her scalp as his other hand rubbed her back.

She couldn’t hear his words, but kept trying to tell herself that he was okay. She was okay. Everything was okay.

After several minutes, her tears had stopped; his shirt was a mess, but her tears had stopped.

“I’m here. Don’t you worry. I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Darcy focused on the feeling of his hands, the comforting sound of his quiet voice, the beat of his heart.

We’re okay.

Ba-dum.

I’m okay.

Ba-dum.

Okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Editing might be a bit rough as I haven't fixed anything between posting there and here, but I hope you enjoyed! And definitely stop by the ole tumblr if you want to prompt/inspire anything of your own!


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